My Only
by oldladywolfy
Summary: Buffer finds the girl of his dreams but will his dreams come true?
1. Chapter 1

_All Sea Patrol characters are the property of their original owners, the Nine network, and Hal and Di McElroy. Only Aingeal is my own._

Aingeal sat on the edge of the dock watching the sunrise. She was early. The taxi had deposited her just as the first splotches of colour trailed their speckled fingers across the heavens, heralding the arrival of the morning sun. She knew Duggan was expecting her just after dawn but she had come early to watch this miracle light show and reflect on the simple joy of just being alive.

Her last assignment had been draining and the loving warmth of her family was becoming overpowering and slowly beginning to suffocate her. She felt smothered by their constant attention. They didn't know how to help. They didn't understand what had happened and she couldn't speak of it. Not yet. Maybe some day, but right now she just wanted to forget and she didn't want to impose the evil images in her battered memory into their safe and comfortable world. She was still listless and tired. She had been out of the hospital for just over two weeks and although her body was just about healed, her spirit was still broken.

Her family had seemed pleased when she had accepted her cousin Duggan's invitation to go out on the boat for a few days. She had sent her bag on ahead and agreed to meet him this morning. Skimming the waves, breathing in the invigorating salt air, and losing herself in the sounds of the sea around her had always been a comforting escape for her. Her father had been a fisherman, and the sea, and the boat, held only good memories. This was what she needed now.

Her quiet reflection was broken by the sounds of men making their way down the pier. Their raucous laughter and loud chatter cut through the air shattering her peace. There were four of them and she gathered by the tackle boxes and fishing gear they carried that they were off for a day's fishing. They headed for the rental shack at the end of the dock.

They were a disparate group but somehow they seemed strangely bonded. One was tall and good looking with a smiling face and laughing eyes. He looked to be in his 30's. Walking beside him was a younger man with blonde curly hair and a bounce to his step. He exuded life and laughed as he playfully pushed the darker haired man. An older stockier man, trailing the group cuffed him across the ear and they continued their banter and loud camaraderie as they approached the rental shop, the uproar scattering the sea birds that now noisily protested overhead.

At the head of the group was a large well-built man. He wore a singlet and shorts that displayed a well-muscled body sporting several large tattoos. His arms looked massive. Their loud rowdy behavior, coupled with what she recognized as sailor's nicknames led her to believe that perhaps they were sailors on leave. The assumption did nothing to restore her calm.

Africa had made her weary and suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable she tucked her hair up, pulled her hat down, and moved back against the pillar at the edge of the pier. She fastened the old shirt her brother had loaned her for scutwork aboard the boat, and got up to leave, her androgynous appearance giving her a greater sense of security.

His spirits high, Buffer paid for their boat and decided to get some bait while they waited for it to be made ready for them. The tiny bait shop sat to the side and its front window was raised. He bartered with the man inside, ordered his bait, and turned to check with the boys to see what else they wanted. As they were shouting their orders the man yelled. Buffer missed the cry amid the din caused by his mates' loud demands, each man's order echoing off the others. Swain's sudden look of horror made him turn quickly, not in time to completely avoid the heavy wooden awning that was crashing down toward his head, but time enough to partially duck and avoid a major impact. The side of the board caught him a glancing blow across the top of his skull. Swain, ET and Charge stood open mouthed in shock as the blood spurted from his head and Buffer hit the ground.

Aingeal cringed. NO, no, no. Not blood! Why did there have to be blood! The last thing she wanted to do was to approach that group but every instinct she possessed urged her forward. She couldn't leave someone hurt and bleeding on the ground and just walk away.

Two of men were gathered around the injured man as she approached, obviously trying to deal with the problem, while the third was talking with the distraught bait shop owner.

" Please don't let there be violence," she silently prayed.

Her fears were unfounded, however, as the injured man simply gave the older man a thumbs up and he left a very relieved shop owner and hurried over to the others.

She could hear their worried voices as she approached, mingled with the obvious concern for their day trip, which somehow seemed to outweigh the concern for the injury.

"Are you ok, Buff?"

"I'm fine. It just grazed me."

"There's a lot of blood, mate."

"Are we still going?" asked ET.

"Yes. I'm fine."

"We know you have a hard head, mate, but you're really bleeding," said Charge.

This evoked a muffled laugh from ET and earned him a sharp silencing glance from Buffer. He sucked his laughter in and held the smile at bay with only the greatest of effort. If Buffer were going to miss this fishing trip he would not be happy.

"Yes. There's a lot of blood, Buff," added Swain.

"Just fix it up, Swaino."

"I don't have my kit here. You need a doctor or at least a nurse, mate."

"Perhaps I can help," a quiet voice interjected.

Looking up they saw what appeared to be, from the sound of her voice and gangly figure, a teenaged girl. Perhaps, her clothes suggested, a deck hand from one of the many ships moored there. The long loose shirt she wore over the worn and faded deck pants and shoes all but hid her femininity, however, and the large floppy hat also hid her eyes and upper face. She was quite tall, and thin and her voice had a husky quality that in an older woman would have been very appealing, but as it was, they sought to dismiss her and returned to their ministrations, one of them casually throwing back, "You don't look old enough to be a nurse."

"Well I am…old enough," she insisted, hoping they didn't notice the pause or quiet addition.

"I don't need a nurse," insisted the big one. I'm fine, thank you, Miss", and glancing at Swain, he added," I'm going fishing!"

"That wound might need stitches, mate."

" No, it doesn't. Get my gear. I am not going to miss this trip for a little cut. This is the first chance we've had in almost 2 months."

"Scalp wounds tend to bleed quite profusely. I don't recommend you go out on the water like that," the voice cut in, definitely sounding a little older and fairly knowledgeable.

"She's right, Buff. You're bleeding like a stuck pig."

"Forget it, Swaino. Get… my…gear."

He slowly enunciated his answer, shooting Swaino a no nonsense look and throwing a 'why don't you just mind your own business' shot her way, though he tempered it with a polite, "Thank you for your concern, Miss. I'll be fine."

Ang was inclined to leave but her conscience and training balked at the idea of leaving a bleeding man on the pier.

"Sit down", she blurted out with just the right measure of authority, and was surprised at his quick compliance. Definitely a sailor, she thought.

She glanced quickly over the counter, grabbed a new plastic bag from its package, and, with her hand encased in it, proceeded to check out the wound.

_Definitely a professional move, _thought Swain. And it really was hard to gauge her age under the floppy hat.

She placed a clean folded hankie over the oozing cut, and said, "You're going to need to keep pressure on that for at least 15 minutes and then it needs to be dressed, and you should probably be checked for concussion. There's a clinic up the road."

"Fine, thank you, Miss, but I'll be right," he replied, and pressing one hand on his head, as per her instructions, started to get up. The blood was still oozing through his fingers.

"Charge, grab his gear," interjected Swain, giving in with a shrug of his shoulders and the older sailor picked up his tackle and started to head for the dock. Swain hesitated momentarily, however, as he saw the blood now trailing down Buffer's neck and saw him stagger briefly as he jumped up.

Ang was too weary to argue with them. So much for her philanthropic gesture, she thought. She should have just walked on. She missed the slight stagger as with a sense of exasperated resignation, she flung the plastic bag into the garbage bin, her words flying out with it.

"Go ahead then. Take him with you. If you dangle him over the side you can at least attract a shark!"

As soon as the words left her mouth she gasped inwardly. She really must be tired, or crazy, she thought speaking to this rowdy bunch like that and she quickly turned to leave, catching their reactions out of the corner of her eye.

The one called Swaino looked as if he was about to choke. His cheeks puffed out as he tried to suppress his laugh, his lips pursed in the oddest smile. The curly haired one had less control. He gasped and grinned like an idiot with his mouth hanging open in astonishment, and the old guy, Charge just openly bellowed his laughter.

Buffer's back was to her and he looked back in surprise, a crooked smile lighting up his face, even as the blood continued to trickle down his neck. He could feel it now, along with the light-headedness that had come from his quick assent and he grinned sheepishly, realizing how ridiculous she must think him.

"Buff, mate, go get your head fixed, please." said Swain. "Otherwise I have to stay too and we both miss the trip."

"Yeah, Buff. Face it, mate. Your trip is stuffed," added Charge.

"I'll catch some for you," quipped ET.

Buffer shot him a menacing glance as the three walked toward the boat, their shaking torsos revealing their laughter. He then got up and followed the girl.

* * *

He called her back with his sheepish sorry and she waited for him to catch up She knew the clinic was only a block or so away but she was suddenly weary and Duggan's boat was close. He would have a well-stocked first aid kit, especially knowing she was coming and she led him towards it.

"Follow me," she said and was surprised by his quiet compliance.

Duggan saw her approaching. He hardly recognized her beneath the old shirt and large faded hat. She was walking slowly, unusual in itself as she was always so full of life, and hiding herself like a uncertain teenager buried beneath a hoodie was definitely out of character. What had happened to his confident sassy cousin to reduce her to such insecurity?

A large well-muscled man whose head and neck seemed to be covered in blood was following her, and Duggan smiled. That was definitely his Ang.

As she saw him she removed her hat and flashed a weak smile.

"Sorry I'm late, Duggan."

He hugged her gently and without thinking said, "You look terrible."

"Thanks a lot."

"Sorry," he laughed. "I just don't think I've ever seen you so thin and pale."

"I've only been out of hospital two weeks," she offered by way of explanation, removing the oversized shirt and dropping it onto a box on the deck. "Give me time."

As they spoke Pete stared in astonishment at the transformation. Standing before him was a tall, svelte beautiful young woman. Large blue eyes, fringed by the longest, thickest eyelashes he'd ever seen, highlighted her appearance. That they were natural he had no doubt as her pale face revealed no traces of makeup and her long honey coloured hair was tied back in a ponytail. He couldn't believe he had thought her a gangly teenager.

She had mentioned hospital and that, along with this man's surprise at her weak and frail appearance led him to believe that she could and would be even more stunning when she was fully recuperated.

While Pete tried his best to look detached and not openly stare, she sent Duggan below for the first aid kit and when he returned she turned her attention back to him. He suddenly felt very obvious and lowered his eyes.

She gestured for him to sit down and after donning some rubber gloves had another look at his wound. It wasn't deep, but because of its location on the sensitive scalp it was still bleeding. She placed a large wad of bandage on it, and a small ice pack on top of that.

"It still needs pressure. Keep your hand on it with moderate force for another fifteen minutes," she ordered, and then left to go explain to Duggan what had happened.

Pete sat quietly and did what she ordered. He wondered at their relationship. It seemed more familial than intimate and he surmised that perhaps he was an older brother. The fair hair, bright blues eyes and facial structure hinted at some sort of blood tie.

After a quiet chat followed by more careful hugs Ang sat down and waited while Duggan went below to get her a drink. She watched her patient sitting quietly holding the pack on his head. He showed no emotion or movement. He simply did as he was told.

When Duggan returned they chatted for a few minutes while she finished her drink. When the fifteen minutes were up she returned to Pete bringing him a bottle of water too.

"You've lost some blood so you should drink this," she said, handing him the bottle and as she had explained its purpose he took it without protest while she began to examine his wound again.

She pressed the ends of the cut to determine its depth. The gash had left a flap of skin and she judged it best to repair it to prevent any accidental re-opening of the wound. She had no anaesthetic or sutures but she had steri-strips and she surmised that they would do the job.

She studied his face as she dried the surface of the skin and began to apply the strips. She knew she must be hurting him but his face remained emotionless betrayed only by an occasional involuntary flinch. She tried to work quickly.

"There, all better," she said as she casually ran her hand across his head in a soothing gesture she had used many times with her younger patients, the short spiky hair tickling her fingers and eliciting an unexpected sensation that reached much farther than her fingertips.

She realized her mistake almost immediately, and as her mind registered the error of her impulse her hand stilled its journey. Too late. She caught his startled reflection in the chrome across the side of the boat. His eyes reacted with surprise mixed with a strange puzzlement. Like a battered child, unsure what he had done to warrant an unexpected praise, and fearing its correction, he quickly drank it in.

Pete closed his eyes, and inhaled, breathing in the touch, which though fleeting burned a hole in his barren memory. It felt so good to be touched, even casually, by a caring hand. It had been so long.

She gave her head a little shake. The fact that she had acted so impulsively showed the extent of her fatigue and she shuddered to think what the reaction would have been had he been one of the men she worked with. Definitely not this unexpected one.

He opened his eyes and turned back to her.

"Thank you, Miss," he replied.

She breathed an inward sigh of relief. Definitely no expectations there.

But his reaction puzzled her all the same. He was a good-looking man, well built, with dark liquid eyes that looked like they could melt a heart, but he lowered them after speaking. Strange that he would be so shy. Didn't look the type. But perhaps shy was the wrong word. Maybe he was just insecure around women. He'd had no trouble speaking to her back at the wharf when he had thought her little more than a child. He had been so adamant about his fishing trip. She smiled as she recalled her cheeky answer. She really was tired. Calling out a group of sailors on the pier was hardly something she normally would do but this group had definitely shattered some stereotypes, as did this strange man in front of her.

He was such a contradiction. He was extremely well built. His arms were massive. His biceps probably out spanned her waist. His shoulders and neck further revealed his strength .A beautiful body, desecrated by a multitude of tattoos that gave him an air of mystery. His voice with his mates had been deep and firm, and although his words had been slow and enunciated there had been a no nonsense quality about them. There was certainly no sign of the self-effacing manner he displayed with her now. Not someone one would normally argue with, she reasoned, and definitely not someone she would want to run into in a dark alley outside a pub, especially not since Somalia. The thought made her shudder.

Pete looked up and saw the sudden shiver. Unsure what he had done to evoke it he lowered his gaze again thinking maybe she was repelled by his nearness and he arose quietly and carefully, preparing to leave.

She caught his lowered gaze and quiet movements and realized he must have seen her involuntary reaction and thought that he had frightened her. Yes, a definite contradiction; a gentle bear of a man.

"I'm sorry if I was rude earlier," he offered. "I appreciate your help"

"You weren't rude just dismissive," she answered, a small half smile fleetingly crossing her mouth. "You'd better wait a bit. I need to check to see if you've been concussed."

"I have a hard head, Miss," he returned, smiling his reply.

"Humour me", she answered. " I'm too tired for a lengthy debate"

Pete glanced into her weary looking eyes and felt a pang of regret. He hadn't meant to argue. He had thought she resented his proximity and wanted him gone. He sat down again and quietly looked into her eyes as she scanned his own.

Ang gazed into the limpid brown pools. Yes, equal and definitely reactive, she thought as he returned her stare with a studying glance of his own.

He couldn't remember ever having seen eyes such a brilliant shade of turquoise. They seemed to draw him in. They also seemed to be devoid of laughter. A hollow sadness seemed to pervade them, emphasized by the fatigue that lined her face. His remorse for his small part in that deepened and he strove to be compliant.

"You really should be monitored for a few hours. Have you someone who can do that?" she queried.

"Yes, but they just left on a fishing trip," he returned unable to stop the smile that split his face and he gleefully clutched his reward as she grinned in return.

"Anyone else?" she queried.

"No, They'll be scattered by now. We're on unplanned leave. I'd have to canvas the pubs to find some of them. But don't worry. I'll head back to the ship. There's bound to be someone about."

She sighed, her conscience wrestling with her need to see him gone. "Not your problem, Ang. He'll be fine. Let it go," she reasoned.

Duggan ambled over to check their progress, the boat now ready for departure.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Good. I've finished dressing it," she replied.

Pete rose, thanked her again and turned to the skipper. "Sorry to delay your departure, sir".

"No worries," replied Duggan. "Angel has been bringing back strays for as long as I can remember." He tossed her a cheeky smile and was rewarded with a sudden scowl.

"Very funny, Duggan," she tossed back.

.

"Angel?" he queried.

"My name is definitely not Angel," she flashed at him and Duggan simultaneously. "Makes me sound like a street walker!"

She blushed even as she said it, and while Duggan laughed, Pete glanced downward stifling his laughter. He had no wish to mock her as she was annoyed enough at him already. Odd that a name would disturb her so.

"My cousin's name is actually Aingeal", laughed Duggan. "She hates being called Angel but I just love to tease." He gently enveloped her in a giant bear hug and kissed an apology on the top of her head while she batted him away and proceeded to clean up her supplies and repack the first aid kit.

"Well I thank you for all your trouble, Aingeal, "and I'm sorry to have delayed your departure, sir"

"It's Duggan, Duggan McRae," he replied, liking the younger man's respectful stance and polite manner.

"I'm Pete. Peter Tomaszewski."

"You have a beautiful boat, Duggan," he added and as he walked he began effusing its virtues while Duggan discussed its merits and talked about the joys of deep-sea fishing.

"Ever been deep-sea fishing, Pete?" He then queried.

"Just once," replied Pete. "Can't really afford it on a Bosun's pay. But it was magic."

Ang watched their easy banter as they walked towards the edge of the boat. Duggan said his goodbyes, and Pete jumped onto the dock. She saw him grab the pillar as he landed and her conscience panged as she realized he must still be a little dizzy. It had been over a half hour and the bleeding had stopped but he really should be watched. She definitely wanted to just send him off and go have a sleep but her gut was saying otherwise and whenever her gut screamed, she answered. It's what had gotten her home alive when so many of her friends had perished.

Pete untied the last rope and lifted his hand in a silent farewell, as he stood alone at the edge of the dock.

Ang started to raise her hand in a farewell dismissal but her gut suddenly kicked her reserve to the rear and she glanced back quickly and, pointing her head in the direction of the boat, gestured an invitation. "Maybe you'd better come."

Pete's eye's widened in surprise. Without hesitation he leapt back onto the boat as it started away from the dock.


	2. Chapter 2

Even as he landed beside her, Ang began to question her impulsive gesture. What must he be thinking? And what would Duggan think when he realized she had invited this stranger to accompany them. She hurriedly offered an explanation, more to herself than to him, as he stood perplexed beside her, his dark eyes questioning his good fortune.

"I noticed you still seem a little dizzy," she explained. "I wouldn't want your death on my conscience if I sent you off and you stumbled into the drink and drowned. And besides, you did miss your fishing trip," she added with a slow grin.

He smiled. He didn't care what the reason he was just glad he would get to spend a bit more time with this lovely creature and the fishing would definitely be a bonus. She led him up to the wheelhouse and left him waiting just outside as she went to explain their guest to Duggan.

After elaborating on the signs of possible concussion, she added, "I really do need to go have a sleep and he can keep you company and do some fishing. Don't know how sociable I'll be anyway."

"You just do whatever you need to bring my old Ang back," he replied. "I'll keep an eye on Pete. We were planning to stay out a few days though. Might have to come back in tonight to drop him off, but no worries. We'll play it by ear."

She left Peter with him and went below.

When Ang returned several hours later she felt more energetic and ready to enjoy the trip. She noticed Duggan and Peter slouched back in chairs at the edge of the boat, their lines trailing in the water. She stood and watched them for a few minutes. Both looked relaxed and they spoke sparingly, mainly engrossed in their task. She walked up quietly and with a quick hand on his shoulder let Duggan know she was up and nodded a silent hello to Peter. Duggan got up to join her but she gestured him back down and joined them.

The day passed pleasantly and quietly. Duggan and Pete sharing their knowledge of boats and the sea and Ang just quietly unwinding and beginning to relax.

From Duggan Pete had learned that they were a large family. His parents had been killed in a car accident when he was young and Aingeal's parents had taken in their nephews and raised them as their own, they and Ang's brothers already a tight knit family when their only girl was finally born. It was many years before she realized that some of her brothers were actually cousins and the bond between them was very strong; so different from his own, now nonexistent, family. He had no siblings and his mother's recent death, a few years after his father's, had left him alone. The navy was the only family he had.

As evening approached, Duggan, after a talk with Ang, spoke to Pete about their actual plans for the trip, explaining that they had been planning to stay out for a few days and wondering if he needed to be back that night or if he wanted to stay on. Pete jumped at the opportunity, pleased at the trust the offer implied. Duggan himself felt that maybe Ang would feel less pressure to be sociable if he had someone else to talk to and she could unwind at her own pace. And the younger man definitely seemed to pose no threat, his military bearing and manners keeping him appropriately distant while his love of the sea provided a common bond and allowed for good company and companionship.

Ang actually managed to sleep in past dawn the next morning and Duggan and Peter were already on deck when she left her room. She had breakfast and a coffee and joined them. The day promised fair skies and good fishing and they settled into an easy routine, Duggan and Peter fishing and Ang lounging on the upper deck or sporadically joining them. When Duggan left to change course or move to another location she joined Peter and they settled into a quiet camaraderie, which surprised her. She wasn't usually so familiar with someone she had just met but she came to enjoy their quiet times together He seemed content to just sit and enjoy her company unlike most of the men she knew who seemed to find it necessary to constantly regale her with useless chatter, mainly about themselves, when they weren't preening or parading her among their friends like some prized trophy. He followed her lead and responded to her quiet banter with humour and interest.

Pete loved simply sitting beside her watching her breathe in the scent of the sea air around her and lose herself in the calm of her surrounding. He could fish for hours and would hardly know she was there save for the delicious smell of her and the quiet sound of her breathing. He couldn't remember ever feeling such contentment.

When they did talk conversations were light and fun. He had never felt so relaxed in a woman's company. Stuck inside a tin can at sea for most of the year since graduating high school had left him uncomfortable around women, save the ones he'd met in pubs on shore leave, and then both of them were usually drunk. He was ill prepared to deal with sophisticated, professional ladies such as this self-assured woman. And young women like her were seldom interested in chatting up some uneducated old sailor.

Ang, for her part, found him a bit of an enigma and her curiosity was aroused.

"I haven't asked. Are you married?" she asked at one point.

"No."

"Girl friend?"

"No."

"Why not?"

He laughed." I guess no one will have me,"

"Why not?" she continued, seemingly enjoying his discomfort.

He covered with humour as he usually did when feeling insecure. "Not a great catch, I guess."

"Why not?" she continued laconically, her terseness countered by a cheeky grin. She was enjoying this.

He answered seriously, inwardly amazed at her ability to draw him out. He didn't normally give so much of himself away" He didn't want to say he was a complete idiot around women, so he simply said," I spend a lot time at sea, in close quarters, never alone, and often when I'm on shore I just like some quiet time. I guess I don't always make for great company, and maybe they think I'm not just worth the effort," he added with a laugh, but despite his attempt at humour, his laughter seemed laced with a pervasive sadness so she dropped her laconic teasing and replied in a more serious manner.

"I can understand that. I have the same problem."

"You?" he said in stunned response. He wondered how someone like her could ever be lonely or lacking for company.

"I work on contract. I spend months out of the country. When I get home I'm overwhelmed by an overprotective family, and friends, trying too hard to fill my days with everything they think I've missed. Sometimes I just want to be alone, to forget the job, go shopping, spend time on the boat, or try something different on my own."

"Like picking up sailors on the pier," he chuckled.

"No!" she stammered.

"You mean I'm the first sailor you've picked up?" He teased, laughing at the scandalized look on her face.

"My first, my last, my only! " she shot back. "I don't make a habit of picking up men, period!"

He laughed at her haughty demeanor as she replied but, afraid that he might have unintentionally insulted her with his joke, he thought it best to change the subject and tried to steer a return to their earlier, safer conversation.

"So, are you married?" he grinned.

"No, I'm not"

"Boyfriend?"

"Nooo," she replied as a little smile began to play around her gorgeous mouth.

"Why not?" he mimicked cheekily.

"Too good a catch, I guess" she smirked back and Pete began to laugh. He was no match for her but he did enjoy the attempt and that, in itself, surprised him.

From the wheelhouse above Duggan watched them deep in conversation, noting her frequent smiles. She seemed to have found a kindred spirit in this wounded sailor and where she had closed up to those closest to her he seemed able to lift the curtain on her grief. He thus frequently found reasons to leave them alone.


	3. Chapter 3

While the morning had been spent in leisurely fashion with casual conversation and some light tackle fishing, that afternoon brought a dramatic change of pace. Pete had put in some lures to troll for larger game and sat back patiently waiting. Suddenly they saw a school of large fish striking the surface, their black backs breaking in a magnificent display. Pete fastened his safety harness just as all hell broke loose. There was a huge explosion of water under one of his baits and Ang watched his line peel off faster than she had ever seen before. The fish took about half the spool and headed out to sea. Ang ran aloft to take the wheel while Duggan went below in case he was needed.

After what seemed like forever Pete was able to gain some of the line back. He'd been fighting the fish for about an hour now and had it within 100 metres of the boat. About that time it took off again stripping off more line as its tail danced across the water. Ang chased it around until it decided to sound. It kept going down, down, down. It seemed to last an eternity. Peter pushed the drag up to try and slow the fish down. It sped up. He tried backing off the drag to see if it might start coming back up. That didn't work either. He was losing line fast and this fish was not slowing down. It was still headed straight down.

Ang watched with fascination as he worked the line, muscles bulging and sweat dripping, beginning to cast a hypnotic sheen on the pulsating mass of his arms. His calf muscles also strained as he braced against the side of the boat. Two magnificent creatures waged in a silent battle for supremacy. It made for some fascinating viewing and she waged her own struggle to keep her mind on the job at hand.

Pete decided to try and stop the fish one more time. He pushed the drag up again and with less than 100 m left on the reel he stopped the fish. Now he was at a stand still. The fish wasn't taking any more line but Pete wasn't gaining any either. They all thought perhaps the fish has died somewhere below.

Knowing that if he had any chance at all of getting this fish up, it was going to take a long time, Pete decided to pace himself and not rush it. He had already been fighting for almost an hour.

While Duggan watched from his side, ready to render assistance if needed, Peter and Ang started working together, she using the boat to help ease the fish up while he tried to gain some line back.

Well into the second hour of the battle he finally got the fish within 150 m of the boat .All of a sudden it started coming up. Why was it coming up so fast? Was it still alive? Yes! It broke the surface in a thunderous spout and the war raged on again as it made another run for it and then dove again.

The gears in the reel were so worn out that Pete could hardly keep up. With Duggan shouting instructions Ang pulled ahead with the boat to keep the slack out. Finally, 4 and ½ hours into the fight, a huge black shape popped to the surface in surrender. It was the biggest Black Marlin Ang had ever seen.

Now they had the physically challenging job of getting this magnificent creature into the boat. Using a block and tackle, and about thirty more minutes of sweat inducing effort, Duggan and Pete heaved the magnificent catch of a lifetime over the gunwale.

Pete dropped to the deck, a messy sweaty heap of exhaustion. A most self-satisfied smile split his face.

Ang, herself fighting fatigue from her long afternoon, leaned over him with a grin and teasingly asked." Do I need to check for hernias?"

Peter's tired throaty laugh sent his glistening muscles into motion again. Ang gave herself a mental slap. "_ Whoa. Down, girl. You hardly know this man!"_ Fatigue was obviously eroding her usual reserve again, and she thought maybe he wasn't the only one who needed some rest.

Pete looked into her eyes as she stooped teasingly beside him pleased to see her cheeky smile reach her eyes. It was a beautiful sight. The radiant turquoise pools seemed to sparkle in the late afternoon sun lighting her whole face. Never had he seen such a beautiful sight! And she laughed with him, not at him, and again he felt complete contentment.

"I'm a mess," he laughed, covering his forbidden thoughts, "and I probably smell as bad as that fish right now."

She leaned in giving him a mock sniff, and chuckled back.

"Naaah, you smell just fine," she replied taking in his manly scent, the smell of the fish now mixed with a lingering fragrance of some undefined aftershave, deodorant, and salty sea air. He smiled his crooked smile; her tummy constricting as the sight of it, combined with his glistening body and manly aroma, assailed her senses. She stood up, and mentally slapped herself again.

" _Get a grip, Ang," she silently chastised." Reality check! Sailor! Shore leave!"_

Pete closed his eyes. He realized her easy banter probably sprang from having grown up with so many older brothers and he reminded himself not to read too much into the familiarity but he still smiled a contented smile and thought that this was possibly the best shore leave he had ever had!


	4. Chapter 4

They headed back to shore with their catch, Duggan having taken over the helm so that Pete and Ang could go get some sleep. Although she had done little more than steer the boat he knew her wounded body would be exhausted simply from the long hours without rest. Pete had protested that he was fine but after showering and changing into some borrowed clothes from Duggan, he had fallen instantly asleep, his training and work experience having conditioned his brain to sleep when time allowed it.

When Ang came back on deck some time later, Peter was in the wheelhouse with Duggan happily reliving the events of the day. She asked if they had eaten, and offered to bring up some sandwiches while they finished their journey home.

Later as Pete sat beside her finishing up his supper, he wondered if he would ever see her again. He didn't know how to even begin to broach the subject. She was very quiet and he couldn't seem to even catch her eye. He finally stood up with his plate and asked if he could take hers below too. Anything to start a conversation. But she simply glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and with a quick thank you passed him the plate. Perhaps she was afraid he might ask about seeing her again and was doing her best to avoid an embarrassing situation, he surmised.

As Peter walked slowly below Ang heaved a sigh. Although Duggan was a tall, well built man he was not as broad as Peter and his clothes stretched suggestively across Peter's muscled frame. In her job she had seen many men in various stages of undress with no reaction at all, but sitting next to him trying to ignore the tight shorts that stretched across his taut muscular body was taking a supreme effort. Glancing at the t-shirt pulled tightly across his chest was distracting enough. She really did need to get a grip. She found herself hoping his own clothes would be dry before they reached port.

When he returned Ang had garnered some semblance of control. She knew he wanted to talk and when he sat down she said," Well, I guess you'll have quite a story to tell your mates when you get back."

" I'm sure they won't believe a word of it," he smiled in reply.

"Ah, then I guess it's a good thing I have pictures," she grinned.

"Pictures?" He didn't see how that was possible.

"Cell phone," she countered. "I took a few from the wheelhouse, and a couple more when you and Duggan were hanging the fish."

A triumphant grin split his face. Pictures! " Maybe you could e-mail them to me," he suggested.

"Maybe," she smirked." Want to see them?"

He nodded yes and she passed him the phone. He scrolled through, smiling as his mind relieved the moments. "None of you in there," he remarked.

"I wasn't fighting the fish. You were," she replied. "And I don't think I want my picture on your shore leave hall of fame," she teased.

" I don't have one," he laughed, _"and I wouldn't want to share you,"_ he added to himself. He definitely didn't want the laughter and teasing that would follow if they saw her picture, assuming he was spinning a yarn or living in a dream world. He could hear Swain now asking if money had changed hands. No! He definitely would not share this memory with his mates.

" Do you have e-mail on the ship?" she asked.

"It's sometimes available," he replied. "I can give you my address. It might go through, depending on where we are. But I'm only back for another few weeks and then I'm on leave for a month anyway, so it can wait if it doesn't." he said.

"I'm off for another couple of months myself," she volunteered.

Peter felt a small ray of hope. "Perhaps when I get back I could take you out to dinner, to thank you for all your help," he offered. Best to qualify it, he thought.

"Why don't you call me and we'll see," she said." I'm not sure yet if I'll still be in town in two weeks."

He nodded his agreement sure that she was letting him down gently. But he brightened somewhat when she added, "Duggan has promised to take me out again and my schedule will depend on his free time too."

Duggan's call from the wheelhouse interrupted their conversation and they made ready to come into port.

A half hour later he was saying his goodbyes on the dock, thanking her for her help and Duggan for the great fishing trip. He was sure his, " You must come again some time," was only politely offered and he left while Duggan was making arrangements for the disposal of his catch, his wonderful memories of the trip laced with an unexpected sadness.


	5. Chapter 5

When Buffer arrived back at the ship it was to a lot of questions from his mates.

"Where have you been?" asked Swain. "We tried calling several times but you were out of range. And how's your head?"

"I was fishing. The head's fine."

"Fishing? You've been gone three days," blurted ET. "We thought you were really hurt."

"Calling the hospitals, were you?" joked Buffer.

"Mate, we weren't that worried," countered Charge and they all erupted in laughter.

The conversation was interrupted by the CO with news of the next mission and the subject of fishing was temporarily forgotten.

When Buffer got off duty that evening he found an e-mail from Ang waiting for him. He tried not to look too disappointed when it only contained a quick hello, and one picture of the huge Marlin hanging from the block and tackle. He showed it to Charge when he came into the room but he was unimpressed, as were the other boys when they saw it the next day.

"Right," said ET. "That could be anyone's fish. Nice try Buff."

He shook off their teasing and laughed with them as he usually did when they were having a go at him and then he let it go. He hadn't really wanted to discuss the trip with them anyway and he was at least glad that the talk of his "fake fish" had taken the discussion away from his head and the nurse who had fixed him up, and although Nav's little _"hello fishy"_ when he entered the bridge later that day had stung a bit, he just smiled it away.

Several days later as they sat in the mess, RO stuck his head in the doorway and stated matter of factly, "You've got some mail, Buffer. "

"Me?" Buffer questioned. He never got mail. It had to be a mistake.

"Yes, you," returned RO.

"Gee, junk mail is finding its way on board now too, is it?" laughed Swain, and the others joined in his laughter as Buffer headed down with RO.

"It's a package," said RO.

" Another fish?" yelled Charge, and the laughter erupted again. It followed him down the hall.

Buffer took the small package from RO and walked to his room to open it. It contained the pictures that he had seen on Ang's cell phone and a short note. He fingered it and smiled. A letter! For him. He opened it carefully and read:

_Dear Peter,_

_I'm sorry I only sent one picture, but after thinking about it I decided it would be better if you had actual copies to hand around to your mates and as soon as I got them printed I put them right in the mail. I imagine you've had some doubters and this should put them in their place. Maybe you should bring some forks with you when you show them so they can eat their words_

Peter could picture her cheeky grin as she wrote that. He smiled at the thought.

_Duggan has been really busy lately and says it will be another few weeks before he can take me out again, so give me a call about dinner when you get back._

_Be safe,  
__Ang  
_

_________  
Buffer smiled to himself. He reread the short letter three times, his eyes lingering on the "Be safe" every time. He folded the letter, put it in his breast pocket, and patted it softly. Then with a satisfied grin he headed back to the mess.  
_


	6. Chapter 6

Aingeal left the restaurant and headed home. She had agreed to meet some friends and former colleagues for lunch, and although it had been pleasant enough, she was glad when they had to return to work. It was difficult avoiding conversations she didn't want to have, suggestions about changing jobs and staying stateside, or various attempts to set her up with dates while she was at home. At least this time she could feign fatigue and escape more easily. She had to admit that some of the men were pleasant enough but they suddenly seemed rather tepid compared to a certain rough-hewn fisherman she had recently encountered.

She knew Peter was due back soon and wanted to take her to dinner and she began to question whether or not she really wanted to get involved with him. She would be going back to work in another month or so and she really wasn't the type for a vacation fling. But just the few days she had spent in his company had been both relaxing and fun and she really needed a little of both right now. She waged a silent battle with herself. She didn't know what his expectations might be and there was only so much she was willing to give. But she also didn't want to lead him on. Knowing he was also off for the next month did nothing to make the choice easier. She sighed. Maybe she was just over thinking this. She would just go to dinner and play it by ear. She decided to write and accept his invitation. Perhaps seeing him in a social setting would help make up her mind.

*************************************************************************************

Pete checked his messages one last time before leaving the ship to make sure she hadn't changed her mind. He couldn't believe she had agreed to meet him for dinner. Granted, he had said it was a thank you for helping him out and taking him along on the trip, but it was still a chance to see her again. She had made a reservation for them and agreed to meet him at the restaurant. He really hoped he wouldn't stuff this up.

Aingeal made her way down the street. She had booked a table, strategically placed in a secluded part of the restaurant, so that they would have a chance to catch up in private without any well meaning friends who happened in that evening noticing her and coming over to inquire as to her health. She just wanted to have a relaxing evening with Peter and try to sort out her feelings.

Seeing a couple of acquaintances from the hospital approaching made her slow her steps. She put on her best smile and resolved to end the conversation quickly and be on her way. She geared up in detached professional mode and returned their greeting.

Pete noticed her from across the street and stopped. What a difference two weeks and a change of style made. She was even more beautiful than he had remembered, Her thick, honey hair was loose on her shoulders and she was dressed casually in a short dress that emphasized her long gorgeous legs and willowy figure She held herself with a confident air as she spoke to a couple of well dressed young men who seemed completely captivated by her. They seemed to hang on her every word. He felt an unexpected pang of jealousy.

After speaking to the young men for a few minutes, Ang dismissed them with a glance at her watch and Pete watched them move on as she continued towards the restaurant, attracting more than a few passing glances.

She crossed the street and as Pete stepped out of the doorway she noticed him and smiled. The dress swayed provocatively against her legs, it's rich blue pattern further emphasizing her deep turquoise eyes and Pete felt his breath catch in his throat. He was definitely out of his depth here. He inhaled to gain control and smiled briefly in return.

He was wearing his uniform. It was the first thing Aingeal noticed, and as she approached he seemed to draw in his breath and adopt a definite military stance. The jacket hugged his muscular frame and the hat emphasized the sharp line of his jaw and his dark eyes. He looked so incredibly handsome, and seemingly immune to the bevy of passing female glances, he gave her a quick smile.

After a brief hello Ang led him quickly into the restaurant, the short walk enabling her to regain her controlled demeanor. She stopped at the cozy secluded table she had booked.

After seeing her seated Pete took off his jacket and hung it up, using the movements to hide his disappointment. He was certain she had rushed him in and sought out the most remote location in fear that someone she knew would see her with him. He then put on his best smile and joined her at the table.

After a few pleasantries they ordered their meal and Ang asked him about the boys' reactions to his pictures. It was a welcome diversion and the evening soon progressed into a very enjoyable one. Pete recalled the pleasure of returning to the galley with his evidence and how, amid the many oohs and aahs, a liberal helping of crow was digested and apologies extended. He was a great dinner companion whose easy laughter and light conversation kept her amused and she was sorry when the bill finally arrived.

Once outside, Pete offered to call a cab for her but as it wasn't far she suggested they walk and he was pleased that she seemed to want to extend their time together.

When they arrived outside her apartment she thanked him for a great evening and he shyly asked if maybe they could do it again some time. "I'm on leave now," he said, "so anytime you want will be fine. Or we could do something else," he quickly added when she didn't answer right away.

"That would be good," she said." I was rather hoping to get out to the Tablelands while I'm home."

Pete smiled. The Tablelands. That would be a day trip. Fantastic. " We could go tomorrow, maybe," he suggested.

He seemed so eager that Ang was momentarily at a loss for words and without thinking quickly said. "I think you'll have to lose the uniform though."

He laughed loudly. "Taking it off is not a problem," he chuckled. "Consider it gone."

"I didn't mean it like that!" she returned, her face turning a dark shade of pink.

Pete continued to laugh but he tried to rein it in. It wasn't often he saw a woman blush these days and the reaction made her look young and vulnerable. It drove home her youth and suddenly made him feel too old and too experienced.

"I will dress appropriately and bring my swimmers," he said, still smiling." I guess this means you won't be inviting me up for coffee," he joked.

"You would be right," she replied, her composure returning, but she tempered it with a smile." I should probably get a good night's sleep if we're going to make a day of it tomorrow but you can come up for coffee in the morning before we leave If you like."

"That would be great," he replied, and after a little more discussion of the finer details of the trip, leaving times, whose car to take, etc she bade him good night and headed upstairs.

Pete headed home with a bounce to his step. It was definitely beginning to look like another great leave.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day started out as wonderful as Pete had hoped. He decided to forgo the promised coffee as Ang was ready when he arrived and they took her car and left.

They followed the winding, scenic waterfall circuit ending up where a river ran over a wide lava flow into a popular, year-round swimming pool. They decided to explore the area. The rainforest was spectacular and at one point there was a series of pools and falls and lots of walking tracks leading to lookouts. Stopping at one they stood and stared down a 75 m drop at the spectacular landscape below. Standing together they quietly enjoyed the pristine wilderness and once again Pete felt overcome by a sense of peace and contentment.

They had decided to buy a picnic lunch at one of the many restaurants on the route and they now headed down from the lookout and found an ideal picnic spot at the edge of one of the swimming holes.

They ate quietly and lay out by the side of the pool. "You look tired," said Pete and jokingly added, "I thought you were going to bed early."

"I did," she smiled in return, "but I haven't been sleeping well."

She gauged his questioning look and intuitively feeling the presence of a kindred soul, added, "Bad dreams."

"Do they have anything to do with that hospital stay?" he asked softly, not wanting to pry but feeling she had opened the way for his question.

"Have you ever almost died, Peter?" she asked. " Has anyone ever tried to kill you?" She knew he was in the navy but she didn't know if he had ever seen combat.

Pete didn't like to talk about what had happened with Walsman and the mercenary he had tasked to kill him, but he sensed she needed a reason to open up and he very quietly told her his story, hoping his willingness to talk would coax a response from her.

Ang cringed at the thought of the psychological terror being forced to dig your own grave would entail and she reached out and gently touched his hand.

He told her about the dreams that had plagued him after, both while asleep and even occasionally during his waking hours. He could almost see the visions finally flee his bruised psyche as he spoke.

He then took her hand in return, looked into her sympathetic eyes and quietly asked, "What do you dream about Ang?"

And as if a plug had finally been pulled on her closeted memories her pain poured out. She slowly and carefully began to tell him the story of her last visit to Somalia, of the attack upon her medical mission by bandits looking for drugs, of the shooting of herself and her colleagues. Wounded and frightened beyond belief, she had hidden in the jungle while they had desecrated both the living and the dead. How she had lived and escaped, or why, eluded her battered senses and until now she really had been unable to speak of it. But something about this man beside her had made her feel that he would understand and the floodgates opened.

Pete sat quietly and let her speak, her voice emotionless as if reading some horrific script, but as she finished her gory tale, the tears began to flow, slowly at first and then in torrents, down her weary face.

He reached out and gathered her close while his eyes blazed death threats at an unseen foe, his tear stained cheeks matching her own.

Snuggled there in the safety of his arms, for the first time in over a month, Aingeal finally fell into a dreamless sleep.

When she awakened several hours later she was in the car, still in his arms. He had been quietly watching her beautiful face, so young, so vulnerable, wondering how anyone would ever want to harm her.

Ang smiled up at him. "I guess this isn't what you had in mind for your first day off," she whispered in a soft husky voice, still half immersed in the throes of sleep.

Pete felt that saying, "_This is perfect_" would have been a little inappropriate under the circumstances so he just returned her smile, reluctant to let her go.

"Are you ok?" he asked in a concerned tone.

"I think I'm fine now," she answered. "Talking about it helped. I just couldn't discuss it with my family. How could I?"

He understood. Those untouched by such violence could never really understand or conceive it.

"It's almost dark and we never even got to go for our swim," she said quietly, almost as an after thought, her brain now slowly dragging itself back to the present.

"We can go swimming tomorrow," he said.

"Yes, tomorrow." she replied. The present was ok. The future would be better.

_"Tomorrow will be perfect," _thought Peter.

She smiled up at him and giving him a quick hug, slid off his lap. "Tomorrow will be good."


	8. Chapter 8

Tomorrow actually brought a change of plans. Duggan called Ang that night just after Peter left and said he was now free for a few more days and could take her out on the boat again. She asked if she could bring Peter along, and although he was surprised at the request, Duggan said nothing to indicate it. An objection would undoubtedly result in a typical digging in of her heels anyway, he smilingly surmised, so he said ok and laid out their schedule.

When Pete saw the call come through on his cell later that night he had a momentary twinge of panic_. "Has she changed her mind?_" he wondered. But his fears were unfounded. Ang told him of Duggan's call and explained their plans for the trip. He couldn't believe his luck when she invited him along. Not only would he have tomorrow with her, but a whole week. This leave just kept getting better and better.

He met her at the dock the next morning feeling more excited than he had on his first posting. Duggan was already on board and Pete couldn't help but wonder if he objected to his coming along, but Ang's smiling face, and Duggan's wave from the wheelhouse, chased away any concerns he had. They sailed out of the harbour just as the new day broke the horizon in a spectacular display of light and colour.

Duggan, watching them from his perch above, was surprised at how comfortable and familiar they had become in such a short space of time. He was pleased to see his cousin so relaxed and happy.

They settled into a routine, and conversation and laughter flowed easily. Duggan couldn't help but think that this man had had a profound effect on her, not just in terms of her recent trauma, but on a much deeper level too. He was definitely good for her.

Aingeal, herself, was surprised at how easily she had let herself become friends with Peter. She was usually much more reserved with people when she first met them and weary of giving too much of herself away. Though in some ways she had grown up too fast, in other ways she had been sheltered and overprotected. The nature of her job had produced a toughness and maturity but the cocoon of her family's sheltering love, coupled with the young age at which she had entered university had left her with a naivety in her interpersonal relations, which she adeptly masked with an air of knowledge and professionalism. She knew she was certainly out of her depth with this very experienced man yet she felt an innate sense of trust that surprised her.

As they sat idly enjoying each other's company that first afternoon, Ang caught Peter looking at her in quiet contemplation, a reflective smile on his handsome face.

"What?" she inquired.

"I was just thinking," he smiled back.

"About?"

"About my last leave, and how lucky I was that a certain nosey nurse happened my way. Who would have thought that nearly getting my brains bashed in and missing my fishing trip would turn out so great," he replied with a smile and was more than a little puzzled by the strange look that flashed briefly across her beautiful face. What had he said wrong?

Aingeal suddenly felt an odd flutter in the pit of her stomach and a surge of guilt made its way up into her throat as she recalled their first meeting. She had let him make the assumption, let all of them, in fact, because she didn't want to have to argue with them or to draw more attention to herself. Time to come clean.

"About that, Peter", she started." I'm sorry. I didn't exactly lie to you, but…"

"But what?" he queried.

"I'm not a nurse," she finished. "I just said I was old enough to be one."

"I don't understand," he replied, his face reflecting his confusion. She had mentioned the hospital many times and talked about the medical mission.

"I'm not a nurse, Peter. I'm a doctor."

Pete felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. His brain numbed and only an exhaled "oh" escaped his lips as he felt the mental impact of her words. He could see his hopes trailing his breath as it was expelled from his body and he suddenly found it hard to breathe. If she'd felt beyond his reach before, she now seemed light years away.

" You hardly look old enough to be a nurse. How can you be a doctor?" he asked when he'd regained control of his breathing.

"I'm 25, Peter," she returned.

"That's still young to be a doctor. You must have been very young when you started your training," he continued, trying to regain some sense of control over his faltering mind.

I graduated high school when I was fifteen," she answered.

"You must be very smart," he said quietly, thinking of his own limited education.

"I'm very, very smart," she returned with a smile, trying to add a little levity to the situation, and pleased that he wasn't dwelling on her omission. Keeping his trust was suddenly very important to her.

Although he gave a quick smile his eyes remained devoid of humour. Still serious, he said," It must have been difficult leaving home at that age." He had joined the navy at 17, and looking back now to the kid he'd been then, he couldn't fathom doing it at fifteen.

"It had its disadvantages for sure, but I had older brothers there to keep an eye on me," she smiled. "And starting uni as a gangly baby faced teen definitely keeps you away from the party scene and glued to the books," she chuckled.

Judging by her looks now, Pete assumed she must have looked very young indeed and he said as much.

"Yes," she laughed. "I know. I have young genes. But I'm told it will be a real advantage when I'm 40."

"I must have old ones," he countered, thinking he was much too close to that age already, and her brief chuckle did nothing to alleviate the sense of melancholy that still engulfed him. He saw the possibilities slipping away. Perhaps he would have to be content now with being only a healing force in her life. But who would heal his heart?

He sat quietly for a long time, saying nothing, deep in thought.

"Are you mad at me, Peter?" she asked quietly.

"No, I'm not mad at you, Ang." He replied.

"Disappointed, then?"

"No, why would I be?" How could he explain that he was sad, just so darn sad, and unable to explain it to her, he said nothing.

She sensed his withdrawal still and stroking his face with the back of her hand, she said, "What difference does it make if I'm a nurse or a doctor? It's just a job, Peter. It's not me. I'm no different today than the Ang you knew yesterday. My job doesn't change who I am, just like you're no different now than when you're on the job. It's just work." She re-emphasized.

But she was wrong; behind the armour of the uniform he was a completely different person. He was Buffer; calm, decisive, in control. He became the job, as if by stepping into the uniform he stepped into the role. And his confidence just as quickly slipped away as he shed it.

She really didn't understand. Pete knew she wouldn't. She was right in one regard, however; it made no difference, really. She was so out of reach now. She was definitely not for him. She was too young, too beautiful, too smart, and he felt woefully inadequate to even be with her. He smiled a sad smile.

"You're right, Ang," he replied. "It really makes no difference at all." He smiled his acceptance and forgiveness for her deception and vowed to just accept what he could have. This time, this wonderful time, would not be marred with the thought of future regrets.

He drank in her smile and answering hug and returned one of his own. And Ang was surprised at the depth of feeling that it seemed to display. It was as if he never wanted to let her go.


	9. Chapter 9

The next few days passed quickly and pleasantly. They seemed to have returned to their previous carefree pace. Pete couldn't remember ever being so happy and relaxed. It was even better than his first trip. Ang had adopted the same familiar manner with him that she had with Duggan and he relished her easy touches and quick hugs even as he fought the impulse to push for more.

Ang, for her part, could not understand why he was still so reserved. Despite their easy camaraderie she sensed that their relationship had regressed. She had felt they were moving forward, but recently he seemed content with just being an extra passenger on the boat, accepting her friendship but neither expecting nor encouraging more.

Normally more reticent in her dealings with the opposite sex she found herself becoming more and more open with him, to the point of flirting on occasion, and she could see the walls slowly beginning to crumble. She realized she could be playing with fire and hoped she wouldn't regret it.

After an afternoon of fishing and laughter, Ang volunteered to go below and get some supper ready.

"Yes, supper, woman" Duggan teased, knowing he would have to swallow the barb but playfully flinging it anyway,

"You can clean up after," she laughingly shot back. Then, in a sudden impulsive move, she grabbed Peter's hand, pulling him up, and tossing an impish grin at his laughing face, she added, " And you can help me."

Pete followed her down to the tiny galley. He stood beside her as she fired instructions at him, the close quarters making it difficult for him to keep his mind on what he was doing. Every time she turned to ask for something their bodies connected and he had to keep reminding himself to keep his was not some girl from the pub. His brain wanted to obey but his body was resisting. She was so close. She smelled so good. He'd be fine if she just didn't look at him.

Ang could feel his discomfort and her impish nature surfaced, He had turned to get something from the cupboard and as he searched she put a hand on his waist and reached around him to pluck it from its hiding place. He glanced back as her touch ignited his senses. Her face was close, too close, and those deep limpid turquoise pools danced as she smiled mischievously at him. He could feel his control slipping.

As she removed her hand and straightened up, Pete turned. He placed his hands against the wall on either side of her, just above her head. He glanced suggestively at her moistened lips, gazed into her laughing eyes and began to slowly lower his head. Slowly, slowly, so very slowly.

Ang knew he wanted to give her ample time to escape, but honestly, she could have gone to Sydney and back. She resisted the urge to grab him and pull him in and left him in control.

How many times had she looked at that delicious mouth and wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Her eyes remained on his face. She stood her ground. His lips found hers.

His kiss was slow and teasing; first one lip then the other, tasting, kneading, circling. She had been kissed many times before but never like that. He made no attempt to enter her mouth. He just skimmed its surface, lightly tantalizing until her lips quivered with newfound sensation and her inhibitions deserted her as quickly as her breath.

Pete slowly raised his head, his hands still holding to the wall behind her. He waited.

Ang stroked his face, and ran her finger along his lip. Such a beautiful mouth, she thought, almost too perfect for a man. And definitely out of place on that chiseled masculine face. She leaned in and kissed him gently, running her tongue along his lower lip, sampling the salty taste of him and as his lip reacted, the tip of her tongue opened his mouth**, **whispering a quick hello.

Pete felt his brain explode and disintegrate into a pool of mush. In that instance she could have asked him anything. He was hers completely.

His hands left the wall, one cradling her flushed face, the other entwined in her thick honey tresses. His tongue traced an answering greeting on the tip of hers and as insanity battled reason Ang slowly lost her mind. Light, sound, reality were all blocked out as their tongues danced their passion and both were lost in a mutual exploration that screamed with an intensity that Ang felt in the very core of her being.

Her hands, reaching under his shirt, traveled the length of his long muscled back and Pete moaned in pleasure. His hand left her face and traveled downward. As his kiss deepened he lifted her slightly and pulled her in against his hard impassioned body. He felt her body quiver as she leaned into him and he fought for control. As they both struggled to catch their breath he slowed his movements, tracing a path of soft sensual kisses down her face to the nape of her neck eliciting a barely audible whimper.

Ang, now out of her depth and shocked by her own audacity, tried to slow the momentum. Her body was reacting in ways she had never experienced as it strove to answer his now awakened need. She was indeed playing with fire. It burned through her body.

Pete, sensing her hesitancy, slowed his movements and lifted his head.

She pulled back, and attempting to cover up her own embarrassment at her very forward and uncharacteristic behaviour, she cheekily ordered, " At ease, sailor. We're not alone."

Pete smiled. He could sense her inexperience and the vulnerability carefully and deeply hidden below that assured exterior. He moved his lips to her cheek and with a quick endearing kiss he pulled her close, holding her gently as they both drifted back to reality. He would tread carefully. He would leave no footprints on her heart.


	10. Chapter 10

Ang began to notice a subtle change in Peter's behaviour after that. He no longer strained to keep a distance between them. Where before he had accepted her brief touches he now relished them. As they lay sunning themselves on the upper deck she stroked his head. It amazed her that such a simple gesture could elicit such contentment. He practically purred in her lap, his body completely relaxed, soaking up her touch.

They took advantage of Duggan's occasional absences below decks to further explore their feelings for each other, but they were seldom alone for long and Ang found herself glad that the week was almost over. Here in the safety of the boat she had acted totally out of character and as a result her emotions were now in turmoil. They definitely needed some alone time and she had some decisions to make.

Did she really want to get involved with this man? If not, she should just end it with this trip. She didn't want to lead him on. But she enjoyed being with him so much; she didn't really want to make that sacrifice. And what did he want from her? Was she just a shore leave fling? So many questions. She needed answers.

Pete lay in utter contentment as she lovingly stroked his head. No one had ever made him feel so cherished. On the one hand he was sorry their time together here was almost at an end; on the other, he longed for it. They were seldom alone and he wanted more than a few stolen kisses. He wanted to know if she was really interested in him or if this was just some harmless vacation flirting. True, he wanted to take their relationship to the next level, and he needed to know if she wanted that too, but that wasn't all he wanted. He could accept rejection. It was the not knowing that gnawed at him.

Duggan called them out of their musings with a shout from below. He had just received a call about a problem back at base and they had to return right away. Ang and Peter both gave an inward sigh of relief. Truth time was at hand.

As they made preparations to come into port Duggan called Ang over for a chat. She then gestured Peter over.

"I have to go in as we need this boat for another tour," Duggan said." The one we were going to use has developed engine trouble. I also have to stay to straighten out some scheduling problems as a result."

Pete nodded, his puzzled expression telling Duggan he was unsure why he felt the need to explain it to him.

Duggan continued, "If you and Ang want to take one of the smaller boats out for a day or two, I've one available. It's up you." With that said he left them to talk it over.

Pete assumed that this is what Duggan had been discussing with Ang and that he wouldn't even have mentioned it had she not been keen on the idea.

"Do you want to come out with me for a few days?" he asked, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted this so much.

He could see the slight hesitation in her eyes as she said yes.

"You plot the course, Ang, and we'll come back when you're ready." He spoke softly, his calm voice reassuring her. He wanted her to know he had no expectations other than her own and she smiled her relief.

Feeling the need to further put her at ease, he changed the subject and asked, "Duggan mentioned a tour. Does he work for a tour company?"

"He owns the company," she replied.

_"Of course he does," thought Pete. How else would he have such ready access to so many different boats?_ He felt his inadequacies begin to grow again.

_"_If he rents these boats I should pay for our rental while we're gone. This won't be a family outing," he stated.

"Don't be silly," said Ang. " Duggan doesn't mind."

"That's not the point. This is his business. If I don't take the boat tomorrow someone else will be paying him for it," he replied and when Duggan returned he said as much to him.

As Duggan tried to dissuade Pete, Ang studied him carefully. She was definitely seeing a whole new side to Peter.

He was adamant. His stance, arms folded, and the no nonsense look on his face, brooked no argument. He was not backing down. Ang got a quick glimpse of the man he must be onboard his boat.

Duggan finally agreed. He was actually pleased with Pete's stand. The man definitely had a strict code that he lived by; he was not a taker.

As they were docking Duggan reminded Ang about the family barbecue that was planned for that evening. They had thought they might miss it but since they were back in port he felt they should go. While Pete tied up the boat, Ang asked Duggan if he would invite him. Duggan looked puzzled, and surprised that she didn't want to ask Pete herself, but he complied with her request and asked him to come along. Perhaps, he thought, she isn't ready for a lot of questions and he vowed to say nothing about her and Pete.


	11. Chapter 11

When Pete arrived at her brother John's house that evening Aingeal said nothing when he was introduced as Duggan's friend, but she felt a seeping shame at the sad reaction in his eyes. She was a coward. She saw only her gorgeous Peter but her family didn't know him yet. They saw just a big, raw, tattooed sailor and she didn't want to deal with the speculation as to whether or not some of those bullets had bounced off her head.

Pete felt hurt that she had let Duggan introduce him as his friend_." Perhaps," _he thought,_" this is my answer". _

He instantly liked Ang's large family. Her brother John and his wife Moira were friendly and welcoming, as were the other brothers and in-laws he was introduced to. The large house and grounds were now awash with kids as most of the brothers were married and had families, He saw very few girls among them, however, which went a long way towards explaining the amazing amount of attention they lavished upon Aingeal. Pete commented on the fact to Duggan as they spoke and he laughingly said girls were a rare commodity in the McRae clan. He said he had only three nieces, two of whom he pointed out among the laughing throng, and more recently a little one who he said must be playing somewhere away from all the hustle.

Duggan told advantage of the brief private moment to ask Pete about his cousin. He had seen a rapid change back to her old self and he wondered if she'd opened up to him about what had happened. Pete nodded.

"Can you tell me what happened?" he asked.

"Not my story to tell, sir," He countered respectfully.

"We'd just like to understand," Duggan insisted, his steely eyes steady and demanding, but Pete's loyalty held, the no-nonsense tilt of his head stating clearly that her confidence would never be betrayed. Duggan smiled. This was the second time today that Pete had let his true nature shine through. Up to this point he had only seen a very compliant Pete but it seemed only Ang could pull his strings. He was no push over. Duggan thought it was indeed a good day when Aingeal had first encountered this man on the docks.

Duggan was then called to help with the barbie and with a firm clap on the shoulder as he walked away; he let Pete know all was well. This brought a rush of relief. Pete liked this man and he felt a mutual respect.

Several young boys shyly walked over to talk to Pete, fascinated by his tattoos and he smilingly displayed them. One young lad of about six asked if he was in the navy and he smiled and said yes.

"Are you an admiral?" he asked gazing up at the large muscled man, instantly assuming he was a man of power.

Pete laughed. "No, just a sailor," he replied. A quick, "oh" later, the boys ran off and he reflected on the other men in the room. He knew several were doctors, and he had been introduced to several businessmen. He marveled that they had welcomed him so openly, and again he felt his own inadequacies bubbling to the surface.

Ang's voice pulled him out of his musings. He returned her greeting with a welcoming smile but she could tell he was still a little put out at his initial introduction. She could see it in his eyes. Sensing his fragile ego, and not wanting to leave him wondering about it all night, she quietly said, "I'm sorry about the introduction, Peter."

"No worries." He replied. "I understand."

But his brief answer told her that he was hurt. The wall was definitely up and he was staying firmly in "his place". They were suddenly right back at the beginning and Ang found herself regretting that fact. She needed to explain. She had simply wanted the family to get to know her Peter without the spectre of appraisal hanging over his head.

"I doubt you do," she returned. "I'm not ashamed of you, Peter, but you're meeting my very involved family for the first time, and as much as I wanted them to meet you, I didn't want their initial opinions of you to be coloured by their need to size you up."

_She wanted her family to meet him?_ That was definitely a line of thought he wanted to pursue, but unfortunately someone chose that moment to come and commandeer her and he was left alone to muddle over her words.

One of the teenaged boys disrupted his thoughts to ask if he was coming in to eat, and both of them were then interrupted by a childish voice.

"Come have tea with me, Andrew, " said a little tow haired youngster of about three, her bright blue eyes pleading.

"Aw, not now, Stacey," Andrew replied.

"Pwease," she pleaded, "No one will pway pwincess with me."

Pete grinned at both her cuteness and the reaction from her older cousin who most definitely did not want to play princesses. In fact, he looked around in fear that someone had even overheard the request.

He replied to Pete's grin with a 'If I have to, you have to too' look and smirked as he said, "Pete will play with you, Stacey."

"Thank you, Pete," she beamed.

Pete was cornered but he wasn't going to be alone, he decided, and he grabbed the now fleeing Andrew by the collar and pulled him along.

"Andrew's going to play too", he insisted with a wicked grin, and the young man dangling from his arm was deposited in a tiny chair around the miniature table the young princess had set up for her tea party.

"You can be a pwincess too," Stacey smiled triumphantly.

"Uh uh," countered Andrew," retrieving some of his pride. " I'm a visiting Prince. Pete can be the princess." And he smirked his own small victory at the big man who now balanced precariously on the tiny chair.

Pete acknowledged that victory with a smile as Stacey set out her extra cups. She then placed a crown on the blushing Andrew's head His pride was immediately salvaged, however, and he erupted into fits of laughter as she brought out a little princess crown and a frilly pink length of material and placed them on a smiling Pete. The crown balanced crookedly on his almost shaven head while the long pink curtain conflicted with his very masculine frame.

Pete simply smiled at the obvious pleasure reflected in her tiny face, but when she then brought out a large blonde wig he began to laugh himself. By this time Andrew was on the floor beside his chair choking with laughter. The noise brought Ang and several of her brothers and sisters in law and laughter spread in loud guffaws across the room. Pete turned his head at the sound.

A lopsided smile resembling one of Stacey's crayon-drawn stick figure attempts traced a crooked path up both sides of his face while his eyes shone with unabashed laughter. Never had Ang loved anyone as much as she loved him at that moment.

Pete, secure in his masculinity, showed no sign of embarrassment at all and when Duggan gained enough control to speak, and briefly stated, " Pete, mate, you could have just said no", he surprised them all with his, "But she's just a little girl."

Needless to say his acceptance was swift and absolute.


	12. Chapter 12

This chapter is rated M.

The barbecue and subsequent evening turned out to be a relaxing and enjoyable diversion and Pete and Ang set off on their trip in the morning in high spirits. They had word that a small squall was expected in the area that afternoon so they headed for a neighbouring inlet where they could lay over for the night and safely ride it out. Neither wanted to postpone their trip.

Despite her excitement Ang was a little nervous as they left the harbour. She was taking a big step but she was sure of her feelings for Peter. She knew that she could bring him to the brink of passion with her touch and yet stop him with a glance. Never had she trusted a man so much. Her body tingled with excitement and anticipation.

Pete sat at the helm and steered out to sea, the wind in his face and his spirits in flux like the air around him. Ang was stocking the galley and unpacking their gear as he brought the boat safely out of port and headed for the open sea. He pointed it toward the inlet and thought about how lucky he was. That Ang had come with him offered what seemed an impossible hope. They wanted to get closer, yes, and he had no doubt that would happen, but he wanted so much more. He didn't want her for just one night, or one week, or even one year. He wanted her waiting for him on the dock when he returned from sea. He wanted to wake up beside her every shore bound day for the rest of his life. The thought that it might be possible filled him with joy, the possibility that it could never happen filled him with a deep sense of melancholy that reached to his very soul.

As Ang approached, a smile radiating from her wind swept face, her hair tossed in disarray by the restless wind, he paused, his melancholy thoughts whipped away by the blustery gusts that engulfed them. He felt his spirits soar and the electric pulse of the air around him engulfed his body, and it screamed out for her.

Pete put out his hand and pulled her into the seat in front of him. He drew her close and with his arms around her he steered the boat through the mounting seas. He kissed her neck and inhaled the sweet scent of her and their passion swelled like the sea around them.

As they entered the small inlet it started to rain. By the time they anchored and had battened down for the night they were soaked, their clothes dripping and begging release as if the heavens themselves had joined the conspiracy.

They headed below laughing, dripping, soaking wet, and peeled off their clothes as the wild and massive movement of the ocean did its dance around them.

Pete reached for her and clung to her rain soaked body, giving cover to her initial embarrassment, her slippery skin soft and warm against his own. His mouth found hers and her senses pounded like the waves that lashed the boat. He lifted his head briefly, his eyes seeking consent before carrying her to the bed and, as their lips met, passion swirled like the sea surrounding them.

When they finally sought air Pete slowly moved his practiced hands down her slender body. His fingers found the scar that marred her perfection and he lovingly traced its contours with his tongue, the touch of his lips guaranteeing it would forever evoke new more potent wind moaned as it bucked the waves and the shudder that shook the boat as it slammed across the bow was mirrored by her own trembling body. The waves lapping against the hull of the ship built in intensity, their once gentle ebb and flow now becoming a pounding beat. Ang felt her passion rising with the swells as she floundered in uncharted waters.

Pete coaxed her compliance, pleading with his hands and his lips; his mouth leaving swirling eddies of desire in their wake as it traced a course across her trembling form. He moved slowly, his large muscled frame mindful of her fragile muscles rippled along his naked arms and shoulders as the boat bobbed against the waves.

As her body was carried away by the rising current of passion, Ang responded. Control flowed from her mind to her restless hands and undulating fingertips lightly feathered the washboard of his stomach invoking a surge of its own.

Pete moaned, his control slipping as he fought to slow his movements. The wind howled. The storm raged. The boat rocked. The lapping waves heaved and reached their peak. He rode the wave crest and plummeted into the trough below.

As the waves of the restless sea advanced and regressed around them they moved from peak to trough. They rode the crest, building in intensity, reached a crescendo, and crashed, their passion exploding in a shocked release of unbridled potency.

The storm within him died to silence. Light filled his eyes. Pete could not believe the wonderful gift she had just given him. His heart overflowed.

Ang gazed at him; her eyes still dark with passion. He kissed her gently, and she answered his questioning glance with a contented smile and a soft kiss of her own.

"Are you ok?" he gently inquired.

"Perfect," she answered.

His eyes filled with love and he held her close. She snuggled contentedly into him and they fell asleep to the rhythm of the now gentle waves, both overcome by the reality of a perfect love that had brought two lonely and imperfect souls together.


	13. Chapter 13

Pete woke the next morning with Ang still wrapped in his arms. He gazed lovingly at her sleeping form_._

_"__Is this what it would be like,"_ he wondered_, "to wake up beside her, every day?"_

He still marveled at the realization of what she had given him. He knew her self-assured veneer had covered her vulnerability but he had never truly imagined the innocence it also hid, and then gave to him. Only him. His body ached with the joy he felt.

As the first rays of morning light streamed in through the tiny porthole it fell across her sleeping form, highlighting the serenity of her beautiful face. Overcome with emotion Pete pulled her closer and kissed her, her eyes opening sleepily as he softly whispered, "Good morning, my angel."

Aingeal's sleep filled eyes shot open in shocked surprise. She pushed him away. Her face seemed etched in disbelief.

Pete recoiled as if he'd actually been struck. What had he done? Nothing that he could recall. It had been perfect, at least to his shock filled eyes. Where last night he had been lifted to the heights he was now dashed on the rocks of despair. He could only think that it must be the sudden realization of what she had given 'him' that had disgusted her. Feeling as if he were going to be physically sick, he fled the room, his heart shredding more and more with each step he took.

Ang, now fully awake, fought to gather her scattered wits. What had she done? It was just a name but it had touched a nerve especially when he had used it now, after their night of unbelievable passion. Had she been fully awake she probably wouldn't have responded to it, at least not with such intensity, but in her somnolent state it had prodded a long buried memory. But what she'd seen in his eyes hadn't been triumph. It had been adoration. And she had attacked him and thrown him away. All because of a memory and a name, burned so disgustingly into her subconscious. She silently screamed her frustration, her eyes filling at the thought of his hurt and she sought him out.

He was sitting in a puddle of misery on the galley floor. He turned slowly when he heard her enter the room.

Regret welled in her throat and spread to her large tear stained eyes and Peter, misinterpreting its source, was hammered with despair.

She sat beside him, wrapped her arms around his sagging figure and in a whispered voice, murmured, " I'm sorry, Peter".

"Don't be sorry, Ang. Please tell me you're not sorry," he stammered.

"For last night, Peter, never. For this morning, yes. I'm so very sorry."

"What did I do?"

"You called me Angel."

His tortured eyes telegraphed his confusion.

Her brothers too had never understood why she had suddenly started cringing at the use of a favourite pet name, nor did they understand what could have prompted her sudden hatred of it. Ang, however, remembered the day with absolute clarity.

She rocked him gently as she slowly explained, finally putting her aversion into perspective as she at last put it into words.

_She was eleven. She hung over the side of her father's boat just before dawn while he and two of the older boys prepared the vessel for departure. She loved holidays as fair weather meant she could occasionally go with them. She saw a bunch of drunken men in uniform staggering down the dock. The air rang with their loud voices and foul language. Several rough painted women meandered over to them. _

_" Hey, Angel," one of them called, his voice slurring her beloved nickname. "Angel! Get over here! How much? " _

_She saw the exchange of cash and as the woman stuffed it down the front of her top the drunken man grabbed her, his grasping hands already releasing her clothes. They tottered towards one of the shacks at the side of the wharf, his friends and the other women not far behind. Ang had quickly run below. When her brother had teasingly called her angel later that morning she had balked at the name, and to his immense surprise spit out," Don't ever call me that again!" To this day she still responded with revulsion at the once endearing term._

Peter lifted his head. "Oh Ang.I would never disrespect any woman like that."

She nodded quietly. She knew that.

"And especially not you. I love you!"

Even as he said it, Pete wondered if he had said too much. But his defenses had been battered and the truth had slipped out with the outpouring of relief that he had felt when she explained her childhood hurt.

"I know, Peter. I know," she said as she snuggled into him, not wanting to see his reaction to her quiet reply. Why couldn't she say it back? It was as if admitting it would somehow imply a commitment she was not yet ready to make. She was such a coward and he was already so hurt. She hugged him more tightly and, diverting the conversation from his last words, spat out." I don't know what's wrong with me! It's just a stupid name!"

"You were a child. Impressions run deep. I understand," he replied gently.He thought of the many childhood slights and barbs that had shaped his life and helped make him the man he was today…and that coloured it still.

Ang slowly lifted her head and gazed at him with love filled eyes. How did she find such a wonderful man? How did she deserve him? She slowly covered his face with feathered kisses, her soft caressing lips wiping away the pain and hurt she had so unwilling inflicted." I will be your angel," Peter," she murmured between the delicate touches of her lips." I will be your angel."

Her words dancing across his face in husky, sultry tones stilled his breath. With her healing tongue she dried his tears and as she found his mouth, she whispered, "I love you too."

The words came unbidden to her lips fuelled by his gentle understanding. Never had she met anyone like this beautiful man. Beneath that strong exterior he had such a warm and tender heart. His forgiveness had been swift and immediate, demanding no penance for the hurt she had inflicted. She couldn't help but think that he was the one who was indeed heaven sent.


	14. Chapter 14

What was to have been a few days turned into almost a week of absolute bliss and mutual discovery. His skilful tutelage brought Ang's naturally impish nature to the fore and she revelled in her newfound power over him. As he had explored her body she had discovered his. She loved to run her hands over his muscled frame seeking out his many varied reactions She learned exactly which strokes elicited peaceful contentment and which would evoke unbridled passion and she laughingly explored them all.

Pete smilingly endured and enjoyed it all. He loved her so much. And he loved that the lessons were his to teach. Never had he felt so loved and cherished. Never had he cherished and loved so much. He never wanted it to end.

Ang sighed in perfect contentment. When she had started this leave it had been in pain and despair and she now basked in the pleasure and joy they shared. But she knew it had to end. She smiled her impish smile. They couldn't spend the rest of their lives christening all the nooks and crannies on Duggan's boat, as tempting as that might be. The real world beckoned and they both had to get ready to go back to work. Apart from the fact that they were fast running out of some very necessary supplies they had to leave the safe cocoon of this dream world and face the reality of an actual onshore relationship. She prayed it would survive.

Peter heard her sigh and spied her mischievous grin. He smiled at the thought of what might be running through her mind. He had a hard time keeping up with this woman, and he loved every minute of it. He knew she was very intelligent and committed and she threw herself wholeheartedly into every thing she did. Fortunately for him that drive was now directed at him and he delighted in it. He knew their time alone here was almost at an end but his mind refused to face it**. **He wanted this woman of his dreams to share those dreams forever.

Reality resurfaced, however, after a call from Duggan later that day, and they agreed to bring the boat back in the morning. They headed below for their last long and loving night together.

That night as Peter slept, exhausted from their extended goodbye, Ang smiled down at his sleeping form. It had indeed been a lucky day when she first met him. She couldn't believe it had only been just over a month ago. It now seemed like a lifetime.

She kissed his face and gently stroked his head. He leaned into her smiling his contentment. Even in sleep he relished her touch. He was so easily pleased. He gave so much and asked so little, this giant of a man: his heart as large as his well-honed muscles.

No one had ever needed her like this before. She'd been pursued, and lusted after, yes, by men who wanted her; but she had never felt their unconscious craving like this. Not just physical desire but an actual yearning for love. She had always been the one who was nurtured and cherished, and the sudden awareness that this powerful, strapping warrior needed her was overwhelming.

She owed him so much. The nightmares were gone now. He had healed her heart, even as time had healed her body, and she would be forever grateful to him. And she wondered how much her feelings for him were coloured by that.

She knew she loved him. That much was thanks to him, what had almost been forcefully snatched in some foreign jungle had now been lovingly given. She thanked God for that. But she had fallen so hard and so fast. How much of that was her heart crying out for relief from the trauma she had suffered and how much was real? She worried that the flame would burn out as quickly as it had ignited when her life returned to normal.

The next morning, as they were leaving the dock, Ang said, "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Pete stammered, his startled blink reminiscent of a child who has just been told to rewrap the much-awaited present and put it back under the tree until Christmas.

She had to bite her lip to still the laughter gurgling up in her throat. She couldn't laugh at his downcast look. But she felt she needed time; time alone to digest her feelings and this relationship. Even if their love were true and undeniable, if she couldn't leave him now for a few days how would they survive two months apart?

She tried to lighten the mood and with a brief indulgent smile returned, "You didn't think we were just going to come ashore and move in together, did you?"

His mouth murmured a lengthy "nooo" but his devastated face screamed, "YES!"

Ang stayed strong. She had to get her mind back to work and know she could focus on it. So did he. Lives depended on it. As much as she would miss him she could not allow thoughts of him to paralyze her. She was sure his shipmates would feel the same. She had never had a problem leaving family behind before and she needed that assurance now too.

"Work starts soon, Peter. I have things that need to be done before I leave. I have to be able to focus."

As disappointed as he was Pete knew she was right. He had to return to sea soon and be able to put her memory aside and concentrate on his job. In the past he had always been able to compartmentalize his life; sea and shore, but he had never before been blindsided like this. They both needed time to refocus, and hopefully not too much, as he didn't want to waste what few precious moments they had left.

He'd had many relationships over the years and had even imagined himself in love before but they all paled in comparison to the depth of feeling he felt for this amazing woman. The fact that she seemed to reciprocate his love with that same intensity had left him stunned and them immersed in an almost dreamlike fog. He prayed that when it dissipatedin the harsh light of reality she would not regret it and their love would endure**.**

He pulled her close and with a long slow kiss goodbye, said he'd wait for her call, her departure leaving his arms suddenly feeling very empty.


	15. Chapter 15

Aingeal was surprised at how quickly her brain resumed control of her body and she spent the rest of the day checking schedules, consulting colleagues and making decisions relating to her next assignment. She would not return to Africa but there were thousands of storm and earthquake victims in Asia who needed help and support in a much safer environment. She felt her adrenaline levels rise as she anticipated the mission.

She also had to have some serious discussions with her very worried family who were still strongly pushing for her to stay in Australia. She was definitely not looking forward to that and with more than a small tinge of guilt she called Pete the next morning and asked if he'd like to go to John's with her for lunch. He could be her "buffer" she thought, giggling to herself even as the thought crossed her mind. He seemed so excited that she felt even worse but she forgave her mild deception by telling herself that she really did have to give him a proper introduction to her family as more than Duggan's friend.

Pete had been waiting by the phone since early that morning, anxiously anticipating her call. By late afternoon the day before he had finished everything he needed to do before he reported for duty and he really wanted to spend the rest of the week with her before their forced separation. He was thrilled that she wanted to take him to her family lunch. Her mother lived with John, Moira and their nearly grown children and they were in, effect, the head of her very large family. This was a big step. Despite the fact that they had gotten on extremely well at the barbecue he was still a little nervous. He would no longer be just Duggan's friend and he worried about their acceptance of him, a lowly sailor, as more than just a friend to her.

If her family seemed disappointed that she'd brought Peter along they showed no sign of it but Ang could tell by their puzzled glances that their interest was peaked. She knew they wanted to talk about her future plans and they were curious as to why she'd brought this man along.

"Mum, John, Moira," she started, "You remember Peter?"

"Of course," replied her mum," Duggan's friend. Our newest princess," she added with a grin and Pete could see where Ang got her cheeky sense of humour.

They all laughed their remembrances as Ang put her arm possessively around Peter's waist and smilingly replied, "My prince charming is definitely not a princess." And although a few eyebrows were raised he was warmly welcomed with a handshake and hugs when she explained that they had been dating for most of the month. Her previous deception was obviously understood and no one commented on it except for a brief, "Hmmm yes, Duggan's friend" from her mum as they walked into the kitchen.

Lunch was an informal meal around the kitchen table and amid the usual generic chitchat John turned to Pete and said, "Duggan said you were in the navy, Pete?"

Peter nodded an affirmative.

"What ship are you on?" he continued curiously.

"The Hammersley. She's a patrol boat."

"You prefer that over the larger ships," he asked, making polite conversation.

"Yes. I love it," Pete answered. "I've been on bigger ships but I much prefer the patrol boats."

"I have a friend in the navy, but I think he'd prefer to see himself commanding a frigate one day," John grinned.

Pete felt his inadequacies start to surface but he didn't want to leave the wrong impression. "I don't think I'll be commanding one anytime soon," he answered. "I'm not an officer. I'm only a sailor: Petty Officer Bosun."

He never did hear John's reply. Two of Ang's brothers walked in at that moment, having been secretly called over as reinforcements in their ongoing battle to get Ang to change her mind. Introductions were made all around and as they were ready to have coffee, Moira suggested they take it out on the deck and Duncan and Robert could join them.

Pete noticed the looks exchanged among the brothers as they walked towards the patio and thinking they might want some time alone he asked to excuse himself and went to find a washroom. He took his time returning.

Ang was bombarded the minute he left. They wanted to know her plans, Robert having heard though the hospital grapevine that she was leaving the following week on another mission. They were not pleased. She had almost been killed last time and they wanted their only sister, their mother's only daughter, safe at home. Robert knew she'd been offered a position at the hospital and they wanted her to take it.

Although she was pleased her mother had decided to at least stay out of it, Ang was furious. How dare they tell her what to do. The main reason she had taken the overseas job in the first place was for some much-needed relief from their constant mothering. She was no longer a child in uni or med school. She was a grown woman and she wanted to make her own decisions. She told them as much. Guilt mixed with their concern, the brothers finally realizing that it was they who had forced her departure in the first place and as Peter came back into the room their arguments died and an awkward silence ensued.

Pete soon made an excuse to leave claiming an afternoon meeting. He felt that Ang might need more time alone with her family, but she used his departure as an excuse to leave herself. As they left the house, Ang saying her goodbyes, he became lost in thought. What did they really think about her relationship with him? Was that obvious argument about her relationship with him? They were a very close family and he hated the thought that he might cause a rift among them. He would give anything for what she had.

Ang's voice pulled him out of his musings. "Why do you do that?" she asked.

"Do what?"

"Keep putting yourself down like that." she replied in her forthright manner, mimicking his " I'm only a sailor."

"I was just telling them the truth. I am just an uneducated sailor." He didn't want to mislead her either.

"If it bothers you so much do something about it," she replied sternly.

"What do you mean?"

"You have down time. You could take courses. You have lots of lonely nights at sea when you could work on an online program. And I'm sure that your job must entail a certain amount of skill and intelligence. You don't become a bosun overnight. If you checked I'm sure you could get credit for a lot of the experience you have. So if it really bothers you, do something about it. If not, let it go. You're the only one who has a problem with it. I don't!"

He could tell she was annoyed but he continued anyway. "You mean to tell me that it doesn't matter to your family either. They're not upset? That little disagreement had nothing to do with your being with me?"

"For heaven's sakes Peter, not everything is about you." She was no mood to stroke his ego right now. Why was he so lacking in confidence? Didn't he believe her?

"They're upset because I'm going back to work overseas. Your name wasn't even mentioned."

"I'm sorry." He said. He was so sure it had been about him. He mentally kicked himself. Why was he so insecure?

"Are you going to spend your life being sorry?" she returned. "Just ask next time."

Ang was beginning to calm down. She shouldn't have taken her frustration with her brothers out on him but he just seemed so insecure and it was yet one more thing to deal with on her already loaded plate

"Probably", he replied, a small smile flitting across his face. "I'm a dope." He said it jokingly, but he feared its truth. He was always stuffing up.

"Yes you are," she replied, "and putting her hand around his waist, she added, "But you're my dope."

Pete beamed. She was so good for him, her forthrightness in direct contrast to his secretive nature. She never stayed mad for long and you always knew why. Whenever he upset her she instantly called him on it, and whenever she felt she was wrong the apology was swift and immediate. He knew he tended to bury his feelings but she refused to allow it. She reached out and grabbed them on their way to the depths of his mind, yanked them back up and pushed them in his face, demanding an explanation.

"Are you sure you don't want to go back and finish discussing the problem with your brothers?" he asked.

"No," she said quietly. "They'll come round. They know I'm right."

Pete smiled again at her confidence and certainty.

He grinned and replied teasingly, "Of course. You're always right."

"Well, you're not such a dope, after all," she returned cheekily and Pete laughed, a deep spontaneous belly laugh that resonated through the air as he scooped her up in his arms and hugged her. God he loved this woman!


	16. Chapter 16

All her steely resolve to have a few days apart flew out the window when she and Pete arrived back at her apartment. She completely lost her willpower with the first kiss. He just tasted so good, and felt so good. Heck, they had to sleep anyway, she told herself, and it had been a stressful lunch. An afternoon nap was definitely in order.

When they finally resurfaced the next morning Ang was reluctant to send him on his way but she really did have a lot of work to do and he was definitely a distraction.

She knew they were great together but she had a life and she had to get back to it. He had to accept that. She repeated that to him as she shepherded him out the door in the morning.

"I really am busy, Pete," she explained. "I have a lot of details to iron out in the next few days. Don't you have things to do?"

"No," he grinned. "Everything's done."

"Well that's great. Take some free time. Call some mates. Go to the pub. But I have got to work."

" Ok", he replied with a sense of resignation." I'll call you tomorrow."

"No, I'll call you when I've finished everything."

He could tell by her face that she was determined and he reluctantly gave in. He didn't want to push it and ruin everything. She said she needed time. He'd give her time.

After Peter had gone, Ang called some of the nurses who would be joining her on the mission and arranged to meet them for coffee that afternoon. They could give her a quick rundown on the area and the assignment. She didn't need a formal meeting for that. They also knew who else would be going and a little background gossip could be very enlightening. She then spent the rest of the morning on the computer. When it was finally time to get ready she was tired and looking forward to a pleasant break with some old friends. It had been a while. She dressed casually and set off for her meeting.

Pete had taken Ang's advice and called Charge to see if he was up to lunch or a drink at the pub. He talked to Swain and was surprised to find he actually had the afternoon off too. It was Sally and Chloe's play date afternoon and Sal always kept to her schedule, even when Swain was home, as it was less confusing for Chloe. It was only once a week after all. So he set off to catch up with his mates.

He picked Swain up and they arrived at the pub just as Charge and ET appeared around the corner.

"Nothing better to do, ET?" Swain teased, certain that he had a girl in port somewhere.

"Not this afternoon," he replied. "Spa day." He refused to elaborate further.

Just as they turned to enter the pub, Pete spied Ang walking down the opposite side of the street. She was heading towards the local coffee house. As she walked she raised her hand in a quick wave to a group of three other young women who were waiting outside, one still in her nurse's uniform. They were all young and attractive but Ang stood out among them. Her honey hair was again loose and fell attractively over her shoulders, bobbing and swaying in seductive motion as she moved her head. Her slacks clung invitingly to her long legs and slender body and her short tee shirt allowed just an inviting peak at her well-trimmed abs. As she laughed Pete felt his stomach constrict and his desire must have shown itself in his love-dazed eyes.

"Hey Buff!" shouted Charge, calling him back to reality with his cry and a sharp smack on the back. "Down boy!"

"Yeah, Buff. " laughed Swain. "She's definitely out of your league, mate."

"She's so out of your league, mate you're not even playing the same game." quipped ET as he gave her a quick once over, his mouth hanging open in obvious approval.

"Oi!" snarled Buff, grabbing him by the shirt.

Charge hauled ET out of his grasp as Swain calmed Buffer, assuming his annoyance had been at ET's remark, not his salacious look.

"Come on, Buff, he's just kidding, although he's probably right. I think they're nurses from the hospital down the street. "

Buff quickly regained control realizing they weren't aware he knew her. As he turned to talk to Swain he noticed Ang and her friends eyeing them from across the street. A couple of the girls had turned in disgust as he released ET obviously thinking they were fighting.

As he caught Ang's eye he could see the look of disappointment on her face. How would she ever explain him to her friends now? He turned and quietly walked into the pub with his mates.

Ang had recognized Peter and his friends right away. Had they really been going to fight right there on the street? She was appalled at the idea. How well did she really know this man? She turned and walked into the coffee house with her friends determined not to have the incident ruin her afternoon.

Swain and Charge continued to rib him once the drinks had been ordered. "Come on, Buff," Swain teased, still a little puzzled at Buffer's reaction. " You weren't really interested in her were you? She looked a little young for you."

Buffer just smiled. Once the drinks were ordered and they settled into their usual routine they had a bit of a go at him as they always did where women were concerned. He was such an easy target.

"See those girls over there, Buff," explained Charge, pointing at a group of women at the bar who were chatting up another group of men. " Concentrate on them, mate. You'll have better luck."

And with that the afternoon dissolved into a mix of laughter and good-hearted fun which Pete gave every appearance of enjoying. But their words struck a cord and his doubts began to surface again.

He didn't hear from Ang that night or the next morning. He hadn't expected to. She'd said she had to work. But the doubt dug in. He tried to shake it off_."She was taking a break,"_ he told himself. _"She's busy."_ But the doubt was entrenched and it started its insidious gnawing.


	17. Chapter 17

Ang had turned her cell phone off when she left for her meeting the next morning and by the time she turned it on again, several hours later, there was a host of waiting calls and messages; three from Pete, two from John, one from Robert and several from the hospital. She decided to deal with business first as she had no time for another argument with her brothers, and she had told Pete not to call. She assumed he wanted to talk about the incident at the pub but she really was too busy. He was not her priority right now. She made some calls and more appointments for later that day.

Pete knew he wasn't supposed to phone but he was worried. His mates' teasing had done nothing to alleviate his misgivings over his relationship with Ang, and his thuggish actions in full view of her friends had brought home more than ever the difference in their life styles. He wanted to explain and apologize. After the third call he gave up, experience having taught him that too much was often worse than not enough. He sighed in frustration.

When it came to women he never knew the right thing to do. When was he not paying enough attention? When was he paying too much? When to pursue, when to retreat. It was all so confusing**. **When he'd left high school to join the navy he was still a self-conscious, socially awkward teenager, with little experience or acceptance among the more mature girls his age, who mainly looked down their noses at this quiet outsider. Long months at sea during his formative years, surrounded mainly by men, did nothing to enhance his social skills, and, although his uniform firmly cemented his acceptance as a "real Aussie", shore leaves spent mainly in pubs with his mates definitely limited his social exposure to women; especially women like her. Little wonder he felt so insecure and out of his depth.

*************

Later that morning Pete received a rather frantic call from Swain. Chloe had taken ill overnight. It was a normal childhood bug but they were worried and a call to the doctor had resulted in the usual prescription. Unfortunately his car was still in the shop and he needed to pick up the prescription at the hospital pharmacy. He wondered if Buff could come get him.

Pete offered to simply pick up the prescription as he was close to the hospital and it would save time. It would help his friend and give him a much-needed diversion from Ang and his latest stuff up.

Ang left the office in high spirits, the last of her paperwork having finally been completed. She would be leaving in a few days, right after Peter's departure. Perfect timing really. She would be gone while he was at sea and returning in two months, their schedules coinciding perfectly. She loved contract work!

As Pete entered the hospital he saw her. Although she was dressed more conservatively today she still stood out among the crowd in the corridor. Her hair, plaited in a braid down her back, accentuated her more serious look; its appearance suddenly reminding him of another self-sufficient, out of reach woman. She was in deep conversation with two older men he assumed were doctors. Although the youngest of the group she seemed confidant and self-assured as they chatted, and the men were obviously interested and involved in their discussion. He sighed in silent acceptance and made his way with invisible steps to the Pharmacy. She was so close yet seemed so out of reach. The gulf between them appeared to widen with his strides.

Ang made a final stop at the front desk to say goodbye to some old friends. They marveled at how quickly she had recovered. The old Ang was definitely back. There was laughter, happy chatter and hugs all around.

Pete happened across the cheerful camaraderie as he made his departure. She looked so happy and in tune with her surroundings that he felt a small pang of regret, not at her happiness, but at the fact that she could achieve it so easily without him. Sadness crept across his face as he continued his exit.

Ang caught sight of him as she turned to leave. What was he doing here? First all the calls and now this? How needy was he? Doubt began its slow ascent.

When she arrived home Aingeal called her brother John and agreed to come over for dinner. They needed to accept her decision and both knew that her leaving on bad terms would be unacceptable to all, as it would make the ensuing months unbearable. They were too close to leave any ill will between them as they said their goodbyes.

She returned home that night tired and emotionally drained. She loved her family very much and her mother's tears had pulled at her heartstrings. Her brothers' hugs had been long and sincere. They accepted her leaving and her independence but she knew they would worry until she was safely home again.

She was much too drained to talk to Peter and as much as she would have liked him there to ease her sorrow, she knew she wouldn't be able to turn to him without first releasing the cloud of doubt that still clung to her at his odd behaviour. She settled into a restless and lonely sleep.

As Pete settled down for the night he looked with regret at the silent phone. She still hadn't called. He only had a few days left before he sailed and time was running out. Why didn't she call? He could accept her anger but the thought of her rejection left him depressed and discouraged. Perhaps that harsh light of reality had too easily displayed his flaws and had indeed left him wanting. He slept with a heavy heart.


	18. Chapter 18

The next day dawned too early but despite her fatigue, Ang felt a sense of relief. She had really missed Peter and she had only one more appointment to keep before calling him, hopefully later that night. This meeting would be a hard one.

Steven had been on her last mission to Somalia. He too had been one of the few survivors. He was now fully recovered and settling permanently in Sydney. He and his girlfriend would be moving there shortly and he wanted a chance to catch up with Ang before she left. He had arranged to meet her alone as he really didn't want to discuss the last assignment with his girlfriend present. They chose a small restaurant and arranged a time.

Pete had packed his duffle bag and except for one last chore was ready to leave. He wanted no tasks remaining when Ang called him. He left to get his dry cleaning, hoping she would call soon. Surely she wasn't still mad at him about the pub? He hoped she wasn't so immersed in her old life that she had forgotten him_. "No, she's just busy,"_ he reassured himself trying to stay hopeful as he headed out the door.

As he stopped in front of the cleaners, he couldn't believe his eyes. There she was! She was walking down the street just ahead of him and he hopped out of the car in excited anticipation.

Suddenly a dark haired young man exited a restaurant in front of her. As he approached they fell into each other's arms in a long extended hug.

Pete was paralyzed by a wave of utter despair. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. When his mind cleared momentarily they were still clasped in an extended embrace. He leaned against the car trying to regain his scattered wits. This man was obviously not a brother or a cousin. He had met most of them and the family resemblance was strong. This swarthy skinned man was definitely not family. Had her life called her back? What about him?

As Steven encountered Ang outside the restaurant door both were instantly teleported back to that day in Somalia. Neither had ever expected to see the other alive again. He had been even more badly injured than she was. Seeing him whole and well was such a relief. They clung to each other in consolation and common memory of the most terrible of times and Ang held him as he sobbed into her neck. He had thanked God every day that his Jeannie had not been there that day as she usually was, but he had felt such guilt that he had run at the first sound of gunfire. The fact that he had been shot several times and left for dead did little to alleviate that guilt, but seeing Ang alive and looking so well seemed to lift a great weight from his injured spirit.

They finally withdrew from their embrace, and Pete watched them walk arm in arm into the restaurant.

The evening turned out to be long and emotionally draining and when Ang called Peter later that night she said she was exhausted and she would see him in the morning. She was surprised at his quiet acceptance.

* * *

"Work all finished now?' Pete asked quietly when he arrived the next morning.

Yes, I'm finished," she replied.

"I'm sorry about the pub," he started.

"I think if you're going to fight it should be somewhere a little less public than the street. Don't you?" She asked reasonably.

"We weren't fighting. I just grabbed him," he replied." He was out of line."

She said nothing. How he dealt with his shipmates was his business and she didn't want to get into it.

"Is that why you kept calling me?" she asked.

'Yes, I just wanted to apologize. You didn't call me back."

He was so quiet. What was wrong with him? Was he sulking? Sulking, because she'd asked him to wait two days while she did her job.

"Because I asked you not to call! Two days, Peter. I asked for two days to finish my work. I had business to conduct. Work!" She snapped back, her exasperation showing.

She didn't understand why her professional life and their personal lives had to collide.

"And what were you doing at the hospital? Were you following me?" she continued, her frustration unleashing her usually gentle tongue.

"No," he sputtered." I was picking up some meds for a friend." He couldn't believe she thought he'd followed her and his own frustration took hold.

"What about your meeting outside the restaurant?" he shot back." Was that work?"

"What?" She returned in stunned disbelief. "You were at the restaurant too?"

" I was picking up my dry cleaning. You were hard to miss. Perhaps such displays should also be kept for somewhere a little less public than the street."

"No, Peter. That wasn't work! That was a friend. A good friend. One who almost died in Somalia too and whom I hadn't seen since. Did you think I was seeing you one day and hooking up with someone else the next? Is that what you thought?"

She spoke quietly but her cheeks reddened in fury. Never had he seen her so angry.

" Of course not," he stammered. How could he ever think that? He felt a creeping shame spread to his own cheeks.

"Have you never hugged a comrade after a near death experience, simply glad they were alive? Or that you were? Have you never been that overcome with emotion or relief?" She pounded on, furious that he had so little trust in her.

Pete thought back to the time he'd been forced to dig his own grave; to his despair and his collapse after, when X had held him in her arms as he sobbed; or when he had hugged Swain after ET's near tragic accident.

"I'm sorry, Ang," he replied in a quiet undertone. How could he have been so wrong? He knew her better. " I'm so sorry."

"I'm so angry with you right now Peter, I don't know if I can even talk to you," she continued. "But as you're leaving tomorrow I guess I don't have much choice."

"I was just missing you so much and seeing you in another man's arms was more than I could bear," he explained. " I love you so much," he said simply and sincerely.

"I love you too, Peter, but love is not enough. There has to be trust. You don't trust me. And I don't know if you can."

"I made a mistake," he pleaded. "A natural mistake. I promise I'll trust you, Ang**. **I will**."**

"But can you? Can you really? Can you trust me to be there for you, to always be there: to be waiting when you return from sea, to not throw you away if I get a better offer, to stay with you always, and forever; for a lifetime. Can you trust me that much?"

_"Lifetime? She said lifetime_." But even as his stunned brain marveled at the unthought of possibility he knew that the insidious finger of doubt had crept across his mind revealing itself fleetingly in his eyes. And she saw it. Her sad sigh revealed the fact. Betrayed again by his fragile psyche. It was too late for him to snatch it back, although he would have given anything to be able to do so.

Ang felt defeated. Why did he have to make everything so darn complicated? Why couldn't he just accept her love? Take it unquestionably without holding it so tight he choked it. Was it that rare a gift in his life? Cocooned in love over a lifetime had left her unable to fathom the absence of it. She just didn't understand.

"I think we need to say goodbye now, Peter" She said sadly. She didn't want to continue this discussion and prolong her heartache. Perhaps they needed this enforced absence to reassess their feelings and try to gain some objectivity. "We both need time to think and sort this out."

Goodbye. The word had such a sense of finality to it. He fought to breathe.

"Will you write, Ang?" he asked quietly, hoping to retain some small link to her.

"I probably won't be able to," she replied. "I will be in touch somehow though and let you know where we stand. I just really need to put things in perspective right now and we both need to focus on work with a clear head."

She knew she loved him. She just didn't know if she wanted to spend her life tiptoeing through his insecurities. She had to leave while she still could. Perhaps time would provide a solution and give her the answer she needed.

Pete was devastated. He knew she was right. They both had to leave. He needed her touch one more time and he tentatively reached for her. She moved slowly into his arms and he telegraphed his regret in a long, slow, lingering kiss.

"Goodbye, Peter," she whispered.

"Goodbye my angel," he replied in even more hushed tones.

Ang turned and walked away.

_"Don't look back. Don't look back!"_ she silently screamed. She knew if she turned, her resolve would shatter, and she couldn't say her goodbyes to her family already clothed in misery. She willed the tears to still and continued with steady purpose.

Pete watched her walk away. He watched, and watched, and watched. She never looked back.


	19. Chapter 19

Pete's return to the Hammersley wasn't marked with his usual sense of happiness and well-being. His footsteps were heavy as he crossed over to her deck. He could see Swain and Sal in the distance saying their goodbyes. That could have been him.

He sighed and rubbed his head in exasperation, his finger accidentally finding the minute scar that spoke of the miracle of their meeting. The most wonderful woman in the world, and he had ruined it. It was his fault. It always was. Why was he such a dolt? He swallowed the pain. Back to reality. Duty called. Life beckoned. His life. He accepted it and he lifted his head and continued on his way.

One positive outcome of his meeting Ang was that he now looked at his career from a new perspective. If it were all he had he would focus on it.

He was due for a promotion to CPO Bosun soon, he thought. He more than deserved it. He made up his mind to talk to the boss about it as soon as he could, and fill out the necessary paperwork. Perhaps he had been too blasé about his career, just happy to belong and drifting. Both Mike and Marshall had come up through the ranks and he knew he was good at his job, very good in fact.

His battered ego began to slowly rebound. He walked into his room, dropped his kit and began to change. When the intercom blazed some minutes later, Buffer emerged.

************

As Ang prepared to leave she finished one last task. She fingered the small box in her hand and thought about Peter. Never had she loved a man so much or faced such conflict within herself. Their all too brief relationship had so far been such a roller coaster ride of emotions.  
Upon reflection she realized his perception of her meeting with Stephen was not an altogether obvious error. Had she stumbled across him in that situation she would also have been devastated. Peter would not have seen Stephen's tears, only the very long embrace and her arm around his waist supporting his trembling frame as they entered the restaurant. Had they had more time to sit down and talk things out she knew she would not have been so upset or conflicted. True, he had his flaws, but she was not blameless.

What was it he had once jokingly said to her? That maybe he wasn't worth the effort? Is that how she really felt about this gorgeous man, that he wasn't worth the effort? Certainly he was insecure but she'd had her own demons. She never doubted that he had thought her worth the effort. He had shouldered her baggage and removed it without a thought.

She wrapped the box and left instructions for Moira to mail it. She hoped he wouldn't just throw it away. Holding it for a last brief moment she breathed her thoughts into it_. "Trust me, Peter. Please. Trust me."_ She then shouldered her knapsack and left for the airport.

*****************

Back on Hammersley life continued as usual. Buffer wondered if he really had only imagined her and if his last leave had been but a dream. He'd heard nothing since she'd left. He hadn't expected to. He fleetingly embraced her memory and replaced it safely in the depths of his mind as RO walked into the room.

"Mail, Buff," he said.

Mail? Dare he hope? Buffer followed him quickly down the hall and carefully took the small package he held out.

_" A present, maybe,"_ he deduced. His birthday was next week so maybe she'd sent a present. _"A word would have been more than enough,"_ he thought, starting to unwrap it as he walked down the corridor, his anticipation outweighing his need for privacy. It was a mistake. Spider and ET appeared beside him as he unpeeled the last of the paper.

"Wow!" That's a great looking watch!" yelled Spider as the gift suddenly revealed itself. "Is it your birthday, Buff?"

Buffer quickly covered the box with his large hand and sternly returned," Don't you have somewhere to be?"

_"Whoa,"_ thought Spider_. "Someone's more than a little cranky."_ He answered in the affirmative and he and a grinning ET continued down the corridor as Buffer quickly ducked into his room.

He turned the small box over and over in his hand. No note, not a word. Not even a "_Dear Peter, Get stuffed!_" His back against the wall he slid to the floor, hurt and angry. He didn't want a stupid present! He wanted her.

His sense of loss returned with a vengeance and he fought to bring himself under control before returning to duty. He would gladly have thrown the watch in the bin or off the aft deck but Spider had already seen it and the bridge would be awash with the news by the time he arrived. He sucked in his pride and opened it. It was a beautiful watch. But why would she send it? His deflated mind couldn't fathom a reason. What was she trying to tell him?

He studied it one last time, this sad reminder of their time together. Perhaps that's all it was. He prepared to put it on and as he turned it over his grief filled eyes reacted in stunned surprise. His heart seemed to stop in his chest, and as he struggled to breathe, a lone tear made its way slowly down his cheek. The overhead light danced across the words lovingly etched into the back of the watch:

To: Peter

**My FIRST**  
**My LAST**  
**My ONLY**


End file.
